There was a secondary reason however. I came to the realisation that my blog output since joining Facebook had decreased dramatically. Although both formats share a similar purpose - to report the vagaries of daily life and post pictures - my personal preference is for the blog. Facebook is a medium viewed by many, yet digested by few. The blog, however, is aimed directly only at those you wish to target. Your family.
Additionally, my general opine is that my life is too workaday, and (frankly) boring to report widely. What do I do? I spend most of my life working. With what I do for a living being of little interest even to me I rather suspect the more intricate details of my dealings within an office in an airport industrial estate would, perhaps, be just enough to make you pull the socket from the back of your PC and hurl it unceremoniously out the window.
With this said, I can now unapologetically concentrate more on Luca. Who creates a new story seemingly every minute.
Since returning from Edinburgh (my last post), we've since witnessed him terrorise his visiting Grandma Liz, discover that his best friend (Tyler) is moving away from Inverurie after Christmas as well as attempt to combat his more "careful" tendencies.
As anyone who has regular contact with Luca already realises, he isn't the most bold of children, from all angles. From an unwillingness to try new foods or eat any food he conclusively knows that he likes (I've had near 2 hour dinners with him before) through to a nervousness at the thought of getting hurt.
The latter issue has proved an issue at his football training of late. It was exacerbated recently when during a training exercise he dribbled past an opponent who unceremoniously kicked him to the ground. As sore as it appeared, during the sessions since that incident it has caused a noticeable change - he no longer tackles or dribbles during games, and generally stands away from the ball.
Handling the issue has proven difficult, as you'd expect. As mature as he is for a 5 year old, there's still a lot he doesn't understand, or can't comprehend. It left me with a difficult task - I had to take him out to a park and toughen him up. I explained what (and why) we were going to do before we started (basically, I was going to trip, push and kick him continuously while he ran around with the ball at his feet), and gave him the choice whether he was willing to do this or not.
Surprisingly, he was willing, and the big test came less than a minute later when I tripped him, resulting in him falling flat on his face. I picked him up and watched his lip quiver. "Are you good?" I enquired. "I'm ready", he replied, holding back the tears, "lets go again". He then put his foot on the ball and turned to face me again.
I have to say, I was as proud as I was surprised. There's been a marked improvement since then, and at one point during his game on Saturday he dribbled past 3 opponents, using his body to hold them off. He finished the game with blood puring off a cut in his right ear, with no complaints. Progress.
With this being a "comeback" blog of sorts, I shan't overdo the Luca details (I'm certain even grandparents have a limit). Instead I'll briefly describe the (depressingly few) photo's I've taken of late instead.
Terrible photo, but at least evidence of Carole's first horsey event on Harvey, a recent "dressage" competition. Initially there were more of us there to support her than there were other eventers.
Here's the judges marks for Carole's ride, where she came a creditable 2nd place. I won't, for the sake of my health, mention how many competitors there were in her group however.
Luca with the 2nd place rosette. He's becoming ever more like his Mum, insofar that he's proving difficult to catch willingly on camera.
Although having said that, here's an exceedingly rare picture of his Mum actually posing. The last time Carole posed for a photograph must have been the wedding.
The above was taken this morning, when we visited Cove Harbour on a depressingly cold, windy and wet North Eastern day. It was, however, more pleasurable than the movie we'd visited the cinema to see just before this - the remake of "The 3 Stooges". Bleakly depressing.
Luca looks cold here, and rightly so. We'd just been hit by the spray from a massive wave hitting the wall.
He loved it though, as demonstrated by the smiles above and below. "This is one of my favourite things ever" he surprisingly crowed as a soaked father and son climbed back into our car to be greeted with sodden and squealchy car mats to accompany our sodden and squealchy shoes and socks.
**Conundrum of the day - Luca and I spotted an ex of mine in Aberdeen this morning at Starbucks. What do you do? Do you be polite and say hello, introducing the fruit of your loins and "enjoy" that infamously awkward ex chat? Or do you pull your hat over your eyes, raise the collar of your coat and avoid eye contact just like I did?**
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