It's odd how things previously of little consequence become paramount, often before having even consciously recognised a shift. I refer, of course, to my latest source of chagrin. My knee.

I feel I may become rather a bore on this issue, having covered it rather thoroughly verbally. On Facebook. By email. Text. Frankly, though, I care little of the predicted monotony. My knee hurts. It's not getting better. It transpires I have anterior knee damage and tendinitis. My physio (my first ever visit) is cautiously confident, however, that assuming I follow his strengthening exercises and don't overdo it I should be almost fit for my second footballing "Firhill Cup" (http://www.kirkwoodscastles.co.uk/firhill-cup-2012.php) on 13th May. He's insisted on heavy strapping, however, and advised that I'll be in quite some pain afterwards. Being a fellow football nut, however, he knows I'll (attempt to) limp through.

I am concerned however. Even now stairs are my mortal enemy, forcing me to edge up sideways, rather akin to a constipated crab. I struggle, even, to play football with my 5 year old son (good video at the bottom of the blog incidentally) which is most galling of all. I can't yet feel any great improvement and am becoming genuinely concerned that following the 13th my footballing days will be over for good. A sobering thought. My upcoming orthotics (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orthotics) appointment is very much a last chance saloon.

Running should be less of an issue however, as the more predictive striding nature of a jog should cause me fewer issues. Incidentally, my wife's interest in such has increased exponentially of late too. Indeed, on the same day I'm playing football at Firhill (or destroying my knee for ever, whatever) Carole will be precisely 158.2 miles away competing in the Dunecht 5K run. A battle for the Deep Heat and the bath will ensue upon our return home that evening.

Carole, indeed, has rather a busy schedule at the moment. She's just begun horse riding/training for an owner out in Meikle Wartle (I swear it's a real place....) and is absolutely loving it. Featured above is Wallace, her most recent assignment. Apparently a daunting beast, but as I've never quite got my head around the units of measurement used for calculating a horses size (hands !?!?) I'm going to fail miserably in the descriptive sense here.

I'm missing something tonight. Luca perchance? It's not often his name doesn't occur until the 6th paragraph, but there you go. This doesn't, of course, have any bearing as to his current whereabouts in our list of priorities. He remains number one.

And doesn't he know it.

His naughtiness factor has increased to the nth degree of late however. In fact we even received reports from school that he'd spent a break time wandering round the school yard punching girls in the stomach. Why? Only the frazzles of electrical activity in that little brain of his could explain this, as verbally he has been less than forthcoming. Due to this I've had to increase the strictness of our rules and increase his punishments. With outright predictability the most effective has been the removal of treats for two days. Punish the stomach and the soul and will quickly jump into line.

Carole continually wonders why Luca pays greater attention to the admonishments by Dad rather than those by Mum. The answer is twofold:-
1. Luca and Carole are so similar they're almost indistinguishable. Their arguments are a sight to behold, as both battle for dominance in a game to be won by no-one except the local double glazing salesman.
2. The voice. Few can replicate the nerve jangling fear caused to little 'uns by the tone of a Dad in baritone. Imagine God in the movie "The Time Bandits" mixed with Brian Blessed in "Flash Gordon" and you're halfway there.

Football is continuing apace too. Luca's latest training session being a particular treat. Amongst the assorted snotty nosed urchins in Chelsea, Real Madrid, AC Milan and Manchester United shirts stood a shaggy ragamuffin, proudly resplendant in his new Lincoln City shirt. Did his new non-league team attire inspire him to greater heights? He didn't get any worse. And that's a distinct forward step in my skewed perception of reality.

**Useless fact of the day - Don't keep tooth-brushes near the toilet. The bacteria in the air might get transferred onto the brush**

New faces and the spectacles to see them with

My fingernail is about to fall off. I trapped it in a magnetised door some weeks ago and despite various treatments it's now black, gnarly and resembles the onset of a zombie plague.

Luca's fingers seem strong nonetheless, and he's pictured above on the roller coaster at Aberdeen Funfair. A typically Scottish fairground scene, wrapped in seventeen coats and assorted head wear, pretending to enjoy the fun parks wares while secretly wishing the tips of your toes would register any sensation, simply to prove they're still there and that frostbite hasn't taken over.

He's getting too big for the little kids rides isn't he?

The waltzers next. I thought it was a great idea to take photo's mid spin. Of course, I also once thought it a good idea to shave my feet. My socks itched at me for months.

Here's Ben and Elle, our recent visitors for a weeks holiday, both resplendently soaked after the log flume ride. 20 and 19 respectively they may be, but both attacked the funfair with more gusto than little 5 year old Luca. Oh to be young.

Another ride. I was, admittedly, losing the will by this juncture.

The opticians. Luca's first ever eye test, most notable not for the fact that Luca was demonstrated to have slightly short sight (-0.5) but for the fact he is remarkably incapable of sitting still longer than a single flap of a bats wing. The optician is to be commended for his patience, particularly during the period where Luca decided to judder his entire body while his eyes were inspected, for no other reason than "it makes me feel funny".

And above with his first pair of glasses. These are a free set, as it was explained to me that at his age carefulness doesn't tend to be paramount while diving across sofa's, bottom bumping down stairs or playing bullfights with their friends. To be honest I don't see them getting a great deal of wear due to the very minor imperfection in his vision, but his next inspection (in 12 months time) will tell much.

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What of his parents? Carole is currently enjoying the purchases of her "Clarice Cliff" crockery. I'm unsure, however, whether it's the designs she most appreciates, or the instantaneous shade of white her husband turns every time she tells him the price paid.

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She's also handed her gym notice in too, in a surprising turn of events. Bannatynes has been a refuge for her since returning following Luca's birth, both for exercise and social reasons. However, such is the current social schedule that managing time is becoming ever more of a challenge. The exercise aspect will be replaced however - she's joining a running club in Inverurie instead. I may have to watch my back on our next charity run.

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However, a conundrum, as one of life's many obstacles has stuck two fingers up at me. It turns out the date of our next race (13th May) coincides with the "Firhill Fun Day", where again I'm due to play 11 a side football on Partick Thistle's (in)famous pitch. What to do?

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For anyone keen to hear of more of Luca's goalscoring exploits, you'll be left temporarily disappointed. The football training is currently on an Easter related hiatus, and even the Dad and Son kick abouts have been rare, primarily due to Inverurie's weather reverting to norm. The God's have obviously decided the 3 days worth of sun we received recently will suffice for several more decades, to be replaced by the joyously driving rain again. Happy days.

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**Useless fact of the day - In Far Eastern countries such as Taiwan, Singapore and Hong Kong, 90 per cent of young people are short-sighted, compared with 15 to 30 per cent in Europe and the US**