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**