Where does the time go?

Bouncy slides. You can't beat them.

Of rather more pertinent interest, I hope, will be the video below. Is Luca's football training paying off? Judge for yourself below.

**Useless fact of the day - Kelly has a boyfriend**

Video killed the radio star

We went to the cinema after football training yesterday. The projector broke. Seriously. Is it still 1955?



As recompense - Luca was distraught - we embarked on a sightseeing trip instead. The "brisk" Scottish wind was the cause of Luca's Mr Miyagi impression above.

Briskly moving on from the borderline racism of my comment above, our second picture is of the more eerie variety. Taken within the confines of a hydraulic 3D ride at the funfair, the imprints from Luca's vice like grip on my hand are still apparent.

Sunday was actually his second visit of the weekend to the fair. We may have to limit his visits somewhat however, as he's now attempting to grow the back of his hair into a rats tail. Or at least he might, I do feel it could be contagious. Racism, gypsy discimination, I'm on for a narrow minded hat trick today.

He'd visited the previous day with his Mum (while I was at work), and "enjoyed" his first experience on a roller coaster. Yes,the only person on this earth with less of a tolerance for heights than I accompanied his Mum on a roller coaster. "Make it stop Mummy...."

Cutest moment of the week was undisputed however. He prefers a packed lunch to school dinners currently, so we've been sending Luca to school most mornings with a fully stocked lunch box. However, last week we discovered an interesting remnant in his box on his return home. Amongst the orange skins, cellophane and chocolate bar wrappers was a passport sized photo of me. He'd stolen it from the kitchen table that morning (I had a few laid out for my driving licence renewal) and stowed it away in his lunch box. He'd taken it to school to look at at lunchtime. "Why did you do that?" I curiously enquired. "Because I love you" he replied matter of factly.

Enjoy the videos below of Luca "enjoying" the weather during an excursion to the beach.

**Useless fact of the day - What do you call a gay dinosaur? A Mega-saur-ass**

You say it best.....when you say nothing at all

"It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than to open ones mouth and prove it". Wise words from Abraham Lincoln, and an ethos I've been following of late, hence my lack of blogging prose. I am favouring this excuse over the rather more plausible laziness theory.



A secondary excuse is that of Mike and Vals recent visit. Their week long stay encompassed a few activities, such as (illustrated above) a trip to the funfair. Do you lose more money paying for the rides or by having your pockets picked at a fair? I can't quite decide.



Crathes Castle above, and a startlingly rare visit from the sun. We paid for a tour of the castle too. Curiously I felt disappointed with the visit, as not much had changed within since my last visit from a few years previous. Yes, my unconscious isn't quite bright enough to realise that centuries old castles located within protected trusts usually don't change a great deal. Was I expecting flat screen TV's? I've perplexed myself somewhat.



Will Luca willingly dress up at Halloween? No? Will he wear this freebie Knights costume every other day, with the exception of Hallows Eve? Most probably.



On the train with Grandad. Good fun, but more amusingly was the "flyball" event being held on grounds near the platform. "Flyball" is a dogs agility event, and so with time to spare before the trains departure Luca and I went down to watch. Lots of dogs on display, albeit some not quite as friendly as you'd wish. Luca encountered one such beast. He approached the animal without caution, only realising his error when the muscular hound made a dash for him, jaws agape. I knew the dog was tied up on a long lead. Amusingly, however, Luca didn't.


"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!" came the howl as those 12 inch long chubby legs whirred in the breeze, like a Caucasian gnome version of Usain Bolt. He's never moved as quick in his entire life. I don't think I've ever seen him as scared either. I still guffawed. Bad Dad.

As I quite can't recall the likely portents of this above cafe conversation, nor can even conceive a pithy comment related to it I'll give up and get ready to retire to bed. With Scotland having resumed normal weather conditions my toes are as numb beyond belief - yet we get used to this sensation up here peculiarly.

I love our country. At what age is it acceptable to wear socks to bed? Am I nearly there yet?

**Useless fact of the day - A human head remains conscious for 15-20 seconds after being decapitated**