My bias being obvious and incidental, but for anyone unfamiliar with the term a "staycation" is a summer vacation taken within the confines of our shores, avoiding the costs involved in a foreign vacation.
And this is my long winded way of introducing today's entry, where Luca and I spent the first week of his school holidays 300 miles from home in Carnforth, in the Lake District - an enormously gratefully received few days of Granda Ian's timeshare.
So here goes with the rundown of our activities over the past few days. If you don't like pictures of Luca gurning then the following will be an early purgatory for you.
The above is from our arrival at Pine Lake Resort on Monday afternoon. An agonising drive down, Luca afflicted belated and endless revenge on me on behalf of my parents. "Are we there yet? How many minutes now Dad?". I forgot to pack the horse tranquilliser for the journey.
Lakeside, around 50 yards from our apartments door. No pithy remarks here, just a photo I'm already rather fond of.
In the town of Carnforth now, beside a lakeside pub. Luca adored the ducks. The cold beer was my love of the day.
I have to remember to not take photos of Luca with inappropriate tooth rotting fizzy drinks in camera shot. It rather negates my rather pompous stance when berating others for such sins.
Back on site now, we visited the tennis courts twice daily. No matter where else our travels took us, Luca loved to start and end the day under arming the ball back and forth. He's not bad either. Still Andy Murray circa 2006 rather than resembling the rather more imposing 2013 version, but he hits the ball sweetly and could be very capable if he actually listens.
Yeah, I know, Gary's complaining about his son not listening. What goes around comes around, you reap what you sow, pots and kettles, etc, etc, bloody etc.
Crazy Golf now, which became Luca's favourite activity. "Why do I have to pick your ball out the hole Dad?"
"Because I'm old and sore Son"
"You're not old Dad, you're only 38"
"Thanks Son"
"You'll be old when you're 50 though"
At a local mini zoo/nature reserve. Yes, that's an ancient human skull he's handling. This is the boy who squeals if he gets jam on his fingers.
Who does he look like here? It's annoying me. That facial expression resembles someone famous, but I just can't place it. John Belushi? Murdoch from The A Team?
It is Murdoch isn't it?
Thankfully not the kind who fling their poo at you.
Taken in Lancaster, I thought this noteworthy. Isn't the casual use of the morning after pill supposed to be frowned upon?
Yeah, I have more stamina than my 6 year old. I'm unsure as to whether this is a credible boast.
Now, do one pull up. Just one.
Morecambe beach. Not pictured is the endless procession of morbidly obese citizens grimly trundling past in their motorised wheelchairs, all excitedly eyeing up the 367 ice cream and donut stands along the half mile long promenade. Easily the most frighteningly fat town I've ever visited. And I drove through Hull once.
This was as far as he was willing to be buried. Luca is many things, but "adventurous" is an adjective he's certainly can't be associated with. Or is it a noun? Or a verb? I wish I knew. You stop learning about these things at 15, and aren't re-introduced to them until you're 92, infirm and destined to live out your days eagerly awaiting the afternoon session of "Countdown" on Channel 4.
Broccoli. It's awful. Yet I cooked some for our dinner on our last night at Pine Lake. I don't know why, as it meant I had to eat some too. I even told him it tastes of decaying toe nails, yet he still ate it. Is this good parenting or not?
And finally, the photo's from Sundays Half Marathon are now online. Here's one of me casually, and seemingly easily, cruising along:- http://stoneyhm.webnode.com/photos/a2013/photogallerycbm_708941/60/#img-8628-jpg
I didn't look like this on mile 13. Really. Constipated werewolf.
**Useless fact of the day - China produces 8 million tons of broccoli every year**
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