Gary Stewart

Will this work?

2012-01-28T16:42:00.001-08:00

Following further "app" purchases (Apple really do have my credit card providers on speed dial) today's blog entry is the first created solely using my indomitable IPad. Any spelling/grammatical errors I shall blame solely on the software, and fully excuse the effects of the rather lukewarm beer currently coursing it's way through my system.

The most recent event of note, of course, is Luca's recent (and first) birthday party. Being my first attendance at such an event (his Mother has previously assumed the responsibility of attending those of his friends) I have to admit at suffering an initial alarm at the sheer volume and intensity of the occasion. I'd always imagined our son to be rather a handful of the hyperactive variety, but the other attendees matched and even bettered his natural exuberance, inevitably resulting in an occasion reminiscent to the battle scenes involving the Ewoks and Stormtroopers in "Return of the Jedi".

It wasn't all bad however. There was cake.

Few pictures today I'm afraid, but the above is a (rare) picture of Mother (clad in my "favourite" attire of a fleece. No matter how many I burn another swiftly appears in its place) and son, both resembling drunken Red Indians with varying paints strewn across their face. Such messiness is a common theme on my returns from work. Reason alone to retire early from work and begin anew with an alternative career in grifting.

Final picture of the evening? A sword duel between grandson and Granda. Who won? Judging by the number of "Gently Luca" and "Ow, watch my hand" I'd perhaps suggest that had this been times of yore then the youngest member of the Stewart family would have won the hand of fair maiden.

Less successful was Luca's most recent football training session, only hours ago. Following an initially successful transition to the elder age group, a firm step backwards was made today. Ironically, he was greatly adept during the skills section of training, showing admirable footwork, but the actual game provided greater disappointment than even the baffling continued success of Piers Morgan. He appeared disinterested and distracted, spending much of the game chatting with one of his teammates. Stern words were provided by Dad during the journey home, and the hope he at least tries a little bit next week most prominent in my mind.

Does the referral to "Dad" in the previous paragraph indicate I've been reduced to referring to myself in the 3rd person? An even remotely capable wordsmith shouldn't be reduced to such errs. What next, will "LOL's" begin appearing in text accredited to my name? Is this carelessness due to tiredness, drunkenness or simply the natural denouement of my current mental faculties? Im really not sure which I'd rather the answer be.

More important than such trivialities, however, is the upcoming hospital appointment for Mike. Although an actual date has yet to be given, it's been indicated that the appointment will occur within the next 2-3 weeks. The details of such I'd prefer not to list on what is technically a publicly available web page, but suffice to say we're grateful the doctors have noticed, and very much look forward to the successful (relatively minor, local anaesthetic) procedure.

**Useless fact of the day - The highest earning underground train driver in London earns in excess of £60,000.00 per annum**

Luca's football debut

2012-01-14T12:32:00.000-08:00

Following long periods of inactivity it becomes a perennial battle to rouse the (small) part of you that isn't innately lazy. Therefore a very powerful reason was required for me to rise this blog from the ashes.

Luca's footballing debut was this reason.

With his 5th birthday still fresh in the memory (so fresh indeed his belated party is still over a week away) he and I attended his new football training class today. The new class covers the 5-7 age group, which naturally makes him one of the youngest attendees. "I can't wait to see the big boys" he has oft repeated to me this week. He was almost giddy during the drive there.

The exercises were obviously more advanced than his previous class. Despite my failure to remember to take a water bottle with us ("I'm so thirsty" he persistently whined) he hugely enjoyed the new activities, particularly the one in which he had the dribble the ball past Dad, stop, spin, nutmeg me (knock the ball through my legs for those of you strange non-football aficionado's) and regain it at the other side again.

But you're not reading this to learn about kids footballing drills. You want to hear about the glory!

The small scale (5-a-side) games began in the sessions latter half. Luca was noticeably nervous as he lined up alongside his teammates. Furtive glances were continually shot in my direction seeking reassurance. My smiles and encouragement clearly weren't needed however.

The game kicked off, and an obviously uncertain Luca began slowly, deferring to his teammates, clearly desperate not to make a mistake. However, as the game began to flow his confidence grew. His shoulders visibly relaxed and he began moving at a surprising pace.

BANG! The first goal of the game was scored, and a jubilant Luca spun away and raced toward me. "I scored, I scored!" he squealed with a look of sheer delight across his face. So excited was he that ran clear of the pitch and bounded into his Dad's arms. He repeated this at every goal, and as embarrassing as his exuberance was it was equally warming and, most obviously, enormously cute.

The pick of the goals was his third, his hat trick. One of the opponents knocked it too far in front in him, and the ball spun away toward the corner, nearest the goal Luca was defending. Seizing on the opportunity Luca outpaced his opposite number to the ball, only just keeping it within the confines of the pitch. He then spun and ran with the ball up the entire length of the pitch, during which he knocked it past a couple of (naturally) flimsy opponents from the "Yellows" (Luca was the "Blues"). He then bore down on goal, switched the ball to his good (left) foot and prodded the ball high past the goalkeeper.

I swear I literally yelped as the ball hit the net, drawing a number of amused/bemused/embarrassed stares from a number of the other patents. Note to self, do not do this again. There are plenty of ways in which I'll inadvertently embarrass my son over the next decade or so without adding to his future humiliations in such an obvious manner.

More than any other entry in this long running blog, today's prose is intended primarily for future consumption by Luca. Whether or not he develops into a player of reasonable ability in later years (I fear the footballing genes I've provided to him will negate that possibility) I'd like him to at least know how dynamic he once was.

And also to know how much his parents love him absolutely.

For any other family members still reading (you're still here?) I can't even offer the recompense of recent images, due to this being my first (I'll fated?) entry from an I-Pad. Technology and Gary, two opposites that shall never collide.

**Useless fact of the day -

A Manchester City fan was banned in 1995 from bringing dead chickens into City’s Maine Road ground. He used to celebrate City goals by swinging the birds around his head.

We're back

2011-12-11T11:29:00.001-08:00

The sabbatical is over, we're/he's back. Point of order - it's Christmas. With the season of Christ Mass devoted solely to presents for Luca (ignore those myths about the birth of Jesus, and the season of giving), the short chap has very helpfully scoured the shelves of "Toys R Us" to assist in this years choices. Spoilt child ahoy:-

"Thundercats" sword. Yes, another toy from my childhood has been recycled for the ever demanding Generation Z.

Any cars. The bigger the better. Natch.....

Dragons will be popular too. Rather apt the attire atop his head makes him resemble a knight from the middle ages on a quest to battle the dragon to impress fair lady.

Even Luca knows he's pushing it somewhat here.

Lego. You can never go wrong with Lego.

He'd run out of imagination by this juncture. Yes, that's more Lego.

Does anyone else remember the days when a tangerine in your Dad's sock on Christmas Day was considered a treat? Bah and indeed Humbug.

A mere wisp of a blog today. Much like the attempts to start my car on these rather finger numbing winter mornings, it's advisable to start slowly before building toward any degree of normal practice. With this in mind, please vote on today's poll for your preferred subjects of perusal.

**Useless fact of the day - The coldest temperature recorded in Antarctica was -129 F. In Scotland we call that Spring**

Where does the time go?

2011-09-28T12:46:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-19T12:32:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-14T12:57:00.000-07:00

"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**

What's that funny smell?

2011-08-25T12:16:00.001-07:00

A mixed bag of pictures today. Let's sort out the wheat from the chaff.

The above was taken last weekend during a lunchtime stop at an astonishingly poorly run cafe in Westhill. Luca is attempting the perverse superhero trick of covering only his eyes to conceal his true identity. Well, if it worked for Batman, Green Lantern, Green Arrow, Aquaman, etc then it can work for Luca. But what about Superman? All he did was slick his hair back. Why did no-one recognise him? And what's with the pants?

This is from Tuesday. Luca is still on half days at school, so this weeks challenge has been to find things to do to keep him amused in the afternoons. As the incredible quality of my picture taking illustrates, we took a train ride.

Wednesday now, and we took the newly re-imported (from her USA excursion) Granny out to lunch. I'm unsure as which is more prominent, Luca's fiercely determined stare or the fact Granny has much of her lunch attached to her chin.

And now today (Thursday). With Luca recently acquiring a curious fascination in fish, we arranged a visit to his Granda's fish factory in Fraserburgh. Lunch had to be located first however, and we stopped at an innocent looking cafe on route in a town called New Deer. As observant as ever, we'd been in the cafe for over 5 minutes before I realised it was one of those strange church cafe's you find in many rural towns up here. The waitresses, as standard in such establishments, were 116 years old with at least 2 crucifix necklaces on show each. I did worry Luca was going to burst into flame.

He didn't though, and we arrived into Fraserburgh shortly after. Granda received a quick greeting before we lost his attention to the fish tank in the back office. "His name is Borange Orange" Luca proudly announced upon realising no-one had ever named the offices pet fish.

Eventually his attention was re-established, and captured by the many seafaring paintings around the building.

Receiving instructions from Granda on how to behave when entering the factory. He appears to be kind of listening here, but his attention is clearly being drawn elsewhere. Unsurprisingly, it's"Borange Orange" in his line of vision here.

"Is there games on your computer?"

It took a while, but after a folding exercise involving this protective overall an origami master would have been proud of, we wrapped Luca up in preparation for his visit into the factory. He loved it, and had never touched a fish before today. "They're a bit slippery" was his conclusion. The only mildly worrying moment was when Granda demonstrated the machine that tore the skin from the fishes body. As his face turned grey we decided this was perhaps a step too far in his days education.....

A visit to the harbour followed, primarily to allow Luca's clearly still jet lagged Granda to pack up for home. Although he would rather have stayed with his Granda, the boats at the quay held great fascination for the intrepid lad, as did the assorted mutilation of the various catches on display. He is a boy after all.

**Useless fact of the day - 650,000 tons of fish are caught annually in the UK for consumption**

Luca's first day at school - August 2011

2011-08-17T13:08:00.000-07:00

Strathburn Primary's youngest pupil (he's still only 4 and a half y'know) began his school life today.

Breakfast time. Tuck that shirt in boy.

By the time we'd reached the car he'd been kissed and cuddled to a point of submission. "He's not a baby any more", "I can't believe he's a schoolboy now", and various other sentimental parent-esque banalities.

Simon Cowell asked for his trousers back.

His Mum actually asked to be in this photo. Seriously. Even Luca was shocked.

So I took two. Snow in the Sahara is more common.

He looked so small in the playground, but took to his surroundings immediately and began his search for other fun-minded kids. His parents became invisible to him.

Until Dad was needed again natch. While we were chatting to other parents and waiting for the teachers to arrive outside, Luca joined some other children in climbing the various apparatus around the play-yard. "Dad!" he called from atop a steep wooden structure. We waved to him.

2 minutes later the call came again. "Dad!" We waved again. "Dad, come here" he called out.

I wandered over. "Hi Luca, are you having fun?". "Dad, help me down" he whispered, "I'm stuck". He'd been too proud to shout his predicament across the busy playground and had instead waited patiently, contemplating his situation and flashing carefree smiles at anyone who walked past.

His teacher is called Mrs Cocker. I know.

Finally the children were lined up, and Luca led his Primary 1 class inside. Did he cry? No. Did he even look back? Of course not.

We expect him to have moved out by the time he's 7.

**Useless fact of the day - The first schools were set up by the ancient Greeks and Chinese**

Get to sleep!

2011-08-15T12:22:00.000-07:00

It's 8.20pm on a Monday night. I've already walked Yoda. I've also eaten dinner (chicken pie, yeeurrgh). The execrable Eastenders is on TV. A perfect excuse then, to escape to the confines of our bedroom to post the latest in my ever dwindling blog entries.

Problem. I have no new photo's to post. Quick solution, pop through to Luca's bedroom and disturb his slumber for the instant gratification of a new picture. As above.

Alternately, I could instead post a picture previously taken, yet considered so uninteresting it's inclusion in a previous entry was considered unwarranted. So here it is. Luca and Yoda.

Yoda, the canine equivalent of a tremble machine. So nervous that the sound of a car backfiring 3 streets away causes her to involuntarily soil herself. She's never truly recovered from the infamous firework experience, where she bolted at the sound of the bangs, got herself lost and lived wild for 3 days.

Isis, gratefully, is a much bolder hound. Several times larger than her younger brethren, and many years older too, the prospect of a firework causing such mental scarring is unimaginable. That said, she's not without her quirks. Most notable is her ability to communicate via a fart.

I wish I was kidding. She wanders through to the living room, lets one go, then promptly turns around leaving the rooms incumbents to truly appreciate her gift. Every day she does this, every day. Why? I wish I knew. I think she hates us.

A quiet weekend has just ended. Saturday began with a health check and fitness guide for me at Bannatynes Health Club. An unique experience for sure, akin at times to being at a doctors surgery. My results were printed out for me at the end, and rather surprisingly determined my blood pressure to be below average, my lung capacity great and my resting heart rate low as well. These, amongst other results, concluded (according to the chap) that I'm actually rather fit.

Consciously withholding from the instructor that fact I spend 60-70 hours a week sat at a desk, and had irresponsibly munched on a doughnut and a half on route to the club, I decided it would perhaps be inappropriate to query with him as to whether I should continue with my membership, if indeed I am already fit.

I am aware these results allow me great scope for self delusion. I am both aware, and comfortable with that fact.

I wandered down to wallow in the jacuzzi after that, inwardly gloating at my supreme physical condition, while actively avoiding examining my distinct lack of a 6 pack and anorexic arms.

During my delusions, 20 miles away Carole and Luca attended (another) birthday party. I can't remember the child's name. That said, neither, likely, can Luca. But he had fun, it seems

On Sunday, while I slumbered, Carole drove Luca to Aberdeen to visit her friend Annie (or "Aunty Aunty" as Luca peculiarly refers to her). Annie's dad died this week, which, as you'd suspect and understand, leaves a huge gaping hole and a feeling of dispiriting emptiness.

Luca had discussed the plans with me the night before, as I put him to bed. "I'm going to see Aunty Aunty tomorrow" he smiled. "Her Daddy is dead" he continued. His smile turned into a frown. "Who will be her Daddy now?". Following brief contemplation I explained that no-one would, that you only get one Daddy. He seemed surprised and looked away, briefly looking up at me intermittently as he digested the information. Eventually he smiled. "I'll share you with her, you can be her Dad too"

Sometimes they're worth it

**Useless fact of the day - Thomas Edison's son, as well as taking a cast of his dying Father's face, also caught his Dad's last breath in a bottle**

August 2011

2011-08-08T12:28:00.001-07:00

A perfect pale Scottish boy. Living in the North East of the UK gives you that distinctive goth-esque hue due the total absence of sun 11 months of the year. As you can see in the picture, he even has his hands tucked up inside the sleeves of his jacket. In Scotland, we learn to do that before even potty training.

Edit - Scots/English boy before the Southern most members of our family object. Indeed, I adore the fact that even within the same sentence he'll oft bounce between accents.

However, over the past few weeks his accent has noticeably become more anglicised. With my work necessitating an ever lessening presence at home he and his Mum have spent a great deal more time together. As frustrating as my absence is, it has undoubtedly further sealed the bond between Mother and Son. They still butt heads on occasion, but are both slowly learning that it's their latent similarities that have caused previous conflict, rather than their differences

Or more succinctly, they are so alike in nature (they're absolute doubles) that they're essentially arguing with themselves......

I do come home sometimes however. Luca loves the rare occasions I'm here, but is slowly learning that he's no longer my baby. He still often tries to sit on my knee, but as of last week I've banned him. He is so massive now, yet still so elegantly uncoordinated, that he regularly cracks me in the nose with that enormous head of his. I come to bed every night looking like I climbed up Mount Everest on my face.

Having mentioned work, Carole's been keen for me to relax and de-stress as much as possible. With this, I've joined a gym! I know that sounds a bit of an oxymoron (how can you exercise and relax at the same time?), but the gym I've joined is Bannatynes. For those of you who've visited one of these centres (both Carole and Dad are already members), you'll be aware that its as much of a leisurely spa as it is a centre for exercise. They have a "chill out" floor in their gym (I don't get that myself), massages, jacuzzi's, a "slow lane" in the swimming pool and best of all a cafe with comfy chairs and huge selection of cream cakes.

I'm not going to get fit any time soon methinks.

Finally, enjoy the video's at the bottom of the blog. The final video was taken as he modelled his new school trousers (the prospect of his upcoming attendance still terrifies me) while seemingly simultaneously auditioning for a role in the new "Planet Of The Apes" movie.

**Useless fact of the day - Apes can learn sign language, and can learn up to 1000 signs**

Gubbins is a real word

2011-08-01T13:17:00.000-07:00

"It's been two weeks since my last blog", I thought, "I'll have heaps of great photo's". Absolute gubbins of course, and one of many daily instances where I delude myself with such abandon. I'm a horrible photographer, and should be banned.

The above is the perfect case in point. I took four pictures of Granda and Grandson cuddled up together on our sofa and this was honestly the best one. The lighting is so skew-iff Luca resembles a deity. But he's not. Really. Not even slightly.

Onto the Banchory Show now. Can you see him on the bouncy slide? He's like a chameleon.

Here's the best picture. Not really much to say here. It's a tractor

Petting the lambs. Or black sheep. Are we still talking about the animals?

One of the few things Scotland does exceptionally well. Old school hotels and country houses set in acres of idyllic scenery. In this instance it's Thainstone House Hotel, only a couple of miles from our front door. I paid a visit on Sunday having received a free trial days membership to their leisure club. It was great fun, and following a gym session and a swim, I felt the stresses of my profession drift away as I followed suit in the steam room. Upon hearing their membership rates on my departure though, all those knots in my shoulders immediately reappeared. Cheek clenchingly expensive.

A little more on the cost effective side, however, are Luca's haircuts. I took him to the barbers on Saturday morning - not the type of establishment I normally frequent naturellement - for a quick trim. "Don't watch me!" he squealed every time I raised my eyes from the newspaper to watch the progress of his haircut. I can't decide if this was down to his burgeoning self awareness, or more likely due to his desire to be left in peace to flirt with the hairdresser. "I've got loads of cars you know" and "Have you seen my shoes, they're really cool" were two of his more typical statements (always statements, never questions) as Mr Smooth worked his magic. He's an odd little chap.

**Useless fact of the day - Nearly a third of all bottled water in the US is contaminated with bacteria**

Sunny summer July 2011

2011-07-17T09:33:00.000-07:00

I did invite her. With Luca and I planning a weekend away, I of course attempted to convince my wife to join us. "What's the plan?" she enquired. "Well, firstly" I began, "we're driving to Glasgow to watch Partick Thistle play football". At this juncture Carole's current plan of lunch with the girls became singularly impossible to postpone. I can't comprehend why.

Luca was positively buzzing with anticipation, even throughout the 3.5 hour car journey. Predictably however, he decided to fall asleep just as we arrived in Glasgow. Here he is, with that weird "eyes half open" sleep thing he does. He may be possessed. It would explain much.

Luckily we were parked near a local playpark, and had an hour to kill before heading to the game. "Luca, we're here". His eyes remained shut, as he emitted a low grumble from the base of his throat. "And we're going to the park". His eyes sprang open so quickly my startled elbow nudged the car horn. Being in Glasgow's west end, this at least served a purpose of instantly scaring off the kids who were at that moment attempting to remove the cars hubcaps.

I'll avoid the prison bar jokes.

Here comes Luca, determinedly striding across the playparks apparatus. I know I joke about his timidity, but he's far more confident than he was. Only a year ago he would likely have crawled across this section (if he'd even dared to venture on it at all). Incidentally, doesn't his stride here resemble that most infamous picture of Bigfoot?

Perhaps he is the missing link. Monkey-esque, he swings himself onto the slide.

"Yeeeaaahhhh!"

And be just like the other apes I'm tired of monkeying around.

The phrase "deja vu" was intended for use with many of my blogs.

Eventually his fun ended and we made our way to Firhill, outside which I took this picture of Luca. What's this sad face thinking? "Dad, are you really going to coerce me into a life of depressing desolation, forcing me to follow a truly terrible football team?"

Yes I am, but I'll buy you chocolate.

"HOW MUCH CHOCOLATE?"

Incidentally, we actually beat our illustrious opponents, Celtic, 2-1. This made the next leg of our journey rather more upbeat, as we inched our way through the Glasgow evening traffic before joining the open roads toward Loch Lomond. We initially stopped in a town called Tarbet and took in the gorgeous view overlooking the loch.

He's either really excited or constipated. It's often hard to tell.

We could have stayed all evening, but instead drove the last 3 miles of our Saturday trek to a nearby hostelry which contained the familiar faces of....

.......Granny, Granda, Aunt Dawn, cousin Jordan, Uncle Barry and Aunt Helen. Luca's astonishment was not staged, as I'd intentionally neglected to advise him of his evening companions. Seeing Granny and Granda outwith their normal realm was of great surprise to him, as was the appearance of the other strangely familiar faces. It took him a while to warm up however, as the regularity of his meetings with the Glasgow (shire) branch of our family is overly infrequent. Indeed, for the first 20 minutes or so he took refuge on his Granda's knee, cuddled up and coyly avoiding attention.

Here's a much improved picture. I attached the previous image purely as it amuses me. It's the pretence people have, of not being aware of a camera aimed at them. You invariably know when a camera is pointed at you, and it's a curiously human instinct to pretend you're unaware unless directly advised. Why is this? My theory is vanity, as if the picture of you is less than flattering you can at least quibble that "I didn't know I was in the picture, you caught me in a bad pose". Perhaps Kelly, our resident head doctor, can offer a more cogent hypothesis?

Following dinner, we retreated to our overnight destination of.......I can't remember. It was late, and I was tired. My brain was on autopilot at this stage as Dad navigated the few miles to the timeshare. It was as befitting an abode as the surrounding scenery demanded, and a beautiful place to stay. The view from the balcony was awe inspiring, overlooking endless grassy terrain, lochs, lakes and hills. You simply couldn't see a single building, road or car no matter what angle you strained your neck at. Awesome.

I'll describe details of the weekend at a later date. As keen as I am to post these pictures this evening, I'm equally as keen to spend the few remaining hours of the weekend with my family.

Plus of course the final episode of "The Apprentice" begins shortly. Heathen that I am.

**Useless fact of the day - Jane Goodall, a famous, legitimate and highly recognised primatologist and anthropologist, keenly believes that Bigfoot do indeed exist in the wild**

Scorchio in Scotland

2011-07-03T13:33:00.000-07:00

A 22 degree roaster in Aberdeenshire today. Dogs panted, grass turned brown, women with bleached blond hair forgot to dress before leaving the house and that odd shiny, shimmering effect appeared on the roads, confusing and transfixing at the same time.

And Luca melted.

He woke happily enough at 7.40am with Dad and trundled downstairs for breakfast for some hurried toast. Tous commes normale, at least until we walked out to the car. "It's a lovely day" he opined. This state of mind didn't even last until we reached the car. "It's too hot Dad, I'm tired" he whined, before obstinately clambering into his car seat, with that oddly teenage girl strop look upon his face.

Having long since learnt to tune out his moans, we drove quickly to his football training. He then staggered through the session, only coming alive at the (peculiarly arranged) rugby kicking section of the class. Confidently kicking the rugby ball over the bar successively, I noted a couple of Dad's tell their sons to "watch what that boys doing" when encouraging their offspring.

Proud? A little. A future Gavin Hastings perchance, though hopefully without that curiously monotone Scottish public school drawl.

We departed 5 minutes before the sessions end however, as his skin colour had by this stage began to resemble that of an enraged lobster that had fallen into a vat of beetroot juice. We then drove (all windows wound down) into Aberdeen to visit the cinema. Today's "treat" was the live action/CGI version of Yogi Bear. I've had piles that were more fun.

Following successive quick trips to my office and the supermarket, his deteriorating condition forced me to take him quickly home thereafter. We arrived home to find his new bed built. Have I mentioned this previously? Luca has been (justifiably) complaining of late that his bed was becoming too small for him - no surprise as it's a toddlers bed he's had for a couple of years. See the pictures at the top of this blog, taken this evening of his first sleep in the new bed.

He does, of course, faff, tremble and complain when climbing up and down the two stepped (!) ladder. Bear Grylls our boy will surely not be.

It's my birthday on Tuesday. I'll be 36. Carole, however, last night discovered a way to distract me from my depressing descent toward middle age. She took us to what was undoubtedly our worst ever dining experience.

Having received vouchers, she booked us a table at "La Bamba" restaurant in Aberdeen (http://www.labamba.biz/). Despite it's previous questionable reputation, the appeal of vouchers combined with the fact it's now under new management convinced her it was an experience worth undertaking.

My wife is not often wrong but I suppose if the UN can err if they present incoming US presidents with the Nobel Peace prize before they'd, well, actually done anything, then so can Carole. The difference being I don't love the UN.

We arrived to find (very young) staff hanging around chatting rather than greet patrons and lead them to their table. Once eventually noticed, we were lead to our table in the corner, past a hen party, a 40th birthday and a 30th birthday. All entirely encompassing drunk women wearing clothes two sizes too small for them and enough make-up to make a test lab rabbit wince.

Having squeezed through we were sat at our table near the toilets, with it's handily "wipe-clean" tablecloth. Our order was taken shortly after - no great decisions to be made, having been faced with the smallest (1 page!) menu I've ever witnessed. The starters arrived, and the rubbery taste of my overcooked (by about 3 hours) mussels was at least distracted by the cacophony created by the hen party as they stood upon their tables belting out "It's Raining Men"

We've never eaten so quickly, and gratefully shot out as the hen party roared into the chorus of "I've Had The Time Of My Life"

Oh the irony.

But we did laugh all the way home. This will certainly be remembered. Much in the same way the Ukrainians remember Joseph Stalin.

**Useless fact of the day - Every day you breath in one litre of other peoples anal gases**

Londinium

2011-06-28T14:34:00.000-07:00

As the seasons change our lives do too. With the summer season upon us things have become so busy I struggle to recall what my sofa looks like. I miss it, it's comfy.

Starting at Fathers Day (a week past Sunday) Luca and I drove straight from our weekly early morning football training session in Culter to Banchory in order to take my Dad/Luca's Grandad out to lunch. Arriving too early, and buoyed by the unnaturally scorching weather, we took temporary sanctuary in Banchory's Bellfield Park. As you can see, Luca loves chocolate ice cream more than anything or anyone else. No woman will ever receive a gaze as adoring as the one Luca adorns upon that cone.

Eventually Dad came off the golf course, and we met him at our intended place of lunch - inventively the golf club. Above is one of the few times Luca sat still as his Granda took pictures of him.

Once finished, Dad lifted his groaning belly full of Sunday Roast and took Luca out to the putting green. Luca loved it, and even showed (a little) aptitude.

"Get in the hole!"

"This time"

"OK, what do I do now Granda?"

"How about I sit down and you clobber me with your golf club?"

Fast forward to Friday, and we're now in London. Carole, I and a couple of friends booked a few days in the UK's capital, flying down early on Friday and returning late on Sunday. Great fun, but of course Carole still doesn't pose for pictures as the above demonstrates

You have to catch her unaware, like above. I think she's holding her breath here to avoid inhaling the stench of stale, sweaty air that permeates around a London Underground carriageway.

We of course frequented many, many pubs during our visit. For Dad's benefit, here's the most interesting ales I discovered. The Doom Bar was off, but the Rev James was still flowing so I tried a pint. It was bloody awful.

On the London Eye, with Big Ben in the frame. This was the only photo I took due to my overwhelming fear of heights. My companions took great pity on my affliction, guffawing loudly as my skin colour fluctuated between white and green.

This was more my thing, a guided tour round Arsenal FC's stadium. Fascinating stuff (for a geek like me), with some mind blowing stats. Season ticket waiting lists vary between 9 and 11 years, with many packages costing £50,000 per annum upwards!

In the British Museum now, with the featured picture being of some Egyptian dude. I don't know who he was, but I liked his hat.

The trip was great fun overall, and utterly non-stop. The only time we spent at our hotel was to sleep, which was fully our intention. We did the proper tourist thing, visiting landmarks, features, museums, displays and shows, as well as spending a goodly amount of time in public houses naturally.

I even enjoyed the musical we saw too, "Blood Brothers". Good fun, but as with most musicals would be immeasurably improved with the removal of most of the songs. Yes, I am aware that's a bit of an oxymoron.

**Useless fact of the day - The London Eye weighs 2,100 tons**

No photo's!

2011-06-18T12:24:00.000-07:00

As technologically incompetent as I am, I still can't quite comprehend how over a course of a week (the period since my last blog) I've managed to take not one single distinguishable photograph. The best I have is one of Yoda's semi-bald paws. She really is the most nervous of dogs and has taken to nibbling on her back paws over the last fortnight. A real "awww" moment for sure, but I'm still pretty confident you have absolutely zero interest in looking at it.

One potential picture I can't quite get the lighting right on is that of Luca's leg. Four years old and he has legs almost as hairy as his Dad's. Combine this with the ever apparent thick trail of hair running between his neck and tailbone and it raises questions of his parentage. For those of you as TV obsessed as I this may bring to mind "First Born" as a logical explanation........ (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First_Born)

If you recall a little boy bellowing "gnat gnat" then you'll recall this puerile excuse for televisual science fiction. It made "Blakes 7" seem realistic and well produced.

Wasn't 80's sci-fi great? There was another programme about a nuclear holocaust (was it called "Threads"?), which weirdly set the action in Sheffield of all places. I love that, you can imagine the script writers meeting. "This is an epic, terrifying and engaging concept we're dealing with here people. Where shall we set it?"
"London!"
"New York!"
"Rio De Janeiro!"
"Tokyo!"
"Sheffield!"

"Sheffield, perfect, who's for lunch?"

I've drifted off on a tangent. Perhaps this type of prose is more suited in a world where no-one is likely to read your ill informed musings (unless you happen to have slept with someone famous). I talk, of course, of "Twitter". Due to it's ease of use and shorthand format I've been considering posting my witterings on there instead and keeping the blog open purely as the main medium to record Luca's ascent toward adulthood. Good idea or bad? Please vote on today's poll to the right of the page.

Luca has been as charming and manipulative as ever. His bedtimes are proving ever more complex to control as he cleverly takes control of almost any situation. Our gullibility caused us to initially fall for his latest trick, which involved him cuddling into you upon bedtime being announced with the classic line "I don't want to go to bed, because I want to stay downstairs with you because I love you so much". I swear he even flashes his eyelashes.

He's definitely going to be a rugby player however. As disorienting as it often is when he hits, I must say I've been highly impressed with his recent attempts to take me down. He uses his Dad to test his burgeoning strength and is currently developing techniques to knock me off balance. Recently he's become highly adept and has worked out that tackling me hard and low using his shoulder and arms is the most effective ploy. Having played rugby for 7 or 8 years as a junior myself I'm intrigued to see how this develops.

And while referring to development, Luca had his first stand up wee-wee today. He's always sat down on the toilet previously, but with his first school term fast approaching it was decided to re-attempt teaching him the stand up method. He did manage (with help from Dad), but was unimpressed with this new technique. "I think I'll sit down next time" he told me as he washed his hands afterwards, "My willie is still too small to reach over the edge of the toilet"

At least I've had time at home this weekend to witness and help with such matters. Today was my first day off in 12 days, and it showed as I didn't wake until the obscenely late hour of 1130am. This current craziness is caused by my main current work project being that of an unnamed oil company drilling in Greenland. For those of you who read the news with interest, **** are the oil company who are currently drilling in Greenland, much to Greenpeace's chagrin. Indeed their objections are so vociferous Greenpeace's worldwide head this week personally scaled the rig of the "**** ********" vessel to further disrupt operations (yep, one of the vessels I'm responsible for).

I did wonder why I was mailing their invoices to an evil volcano lair.

My lawyer insisted on the asterisks. He's also Ryan Gigg's lawyer so he must be good.....

**Useless fact of the day - It appears "Facebook" has reached saturation point, as figures released this month show a worldwide drop of 3.7% (a loss of 100,000 users in the UK alone)**

You're kidding me?

2011-06-11T05:41:00.000-07:00

I'm really not. They graduate from nursery nowadays. And they say society has reached a plateau...

He looks very cute nonetheless. In the background is one of the girls from his nursery. I love the fact Luca has been going to nursery for years, yet even now as he prepares to leave I still couldn't confidently tell you the names of more than two of the assistants there. I've inherited my Mothers memory retention. Even now, nearly 36 years after my birth, she regularly refers to me as Ross.

Where's Wally?

On to Lochinver, where Carole, Luca and Liz recently enjoyed a 3 day break. This picturesque landscape, situated on the West Coast of Scotland, is one of the most untouched you'll witness in the developed Western world, certainly within our isles.

The picture above is even more breathtaking, perhaps as the sun had made a rare appearance. As gorgeous as it is, Scotland suffers the curse of being cold, wet, dank and windy all bl**dy year. Apart from our summer, which lasts approximately 2 weeks per annum and is blighted by the sun bringing forth the appearance of Scotlands most dangerous animal - the midge.....

A lighthouse. I can't tell you more, I was 200 miles away in my office. I'm sure "Google" can tell you more than I.

That's a suspiciously toothy smile from the boy. He's either appreciating the West Coast forest trail more than you'd expect or has spotted a bar of chocolate behind his Grandma's ear.

Crazy golf. He apparently (you'll have realised by now I was nowhere in the vicinity when ANY of these picture were taken) loved it and played with great seriousness throughout the entire 18 holes. Granda Ian and Gramps TomTom can now perhaps begin his training in an attempt to create the new Tiger Woods. Albeit a version of Tiger Woods with a little less sexual deviance than the original assumedly.

And that's it. I'm currently in my office (yep, it's 2pm on a Saturday afternoon) and so need to wrap this up so I can return home and enjoy my weekend. Isis has recently introduced a new greeting, where she farts immediately upon my appearance. I really don't know what that means.

**Useless fact of the day - The population of Lochinver is under 600**

It's June 2011 now - bloody Nora, where's the time gone?

2011-06-08T14:45:00.001-07:00

With my having been absent from blog-land for so long you'd be entitled to expect more than seven photo's surely? You'd be wrong.

Despite the rather exiguous total I'll describe each, beginning at the "Taste of Grampian" festival we attended on Saturday. It's an annual event held only two miles from home and a real favourite of mine, as with my palate having extended somewhat during adulthood (much to the chagrin of Mum, with her having endured the rather more unadventurous tastes of my childhood) I really enjoy the huge selection of exotic and locally produced foods on display. Luca, unfortunately, seems to share my childhood reservations and doesn't yet have an extensive range of foods he enjoys. But as Popeye says "I knows what I likes", and the above picture is him sampling a rather basic yogurt drink sample. Additionally, as yet he has little shame, and returned to the stall 3 times for a top up.

Here he is enjoying sample number two.

And getting it all over his nose.

"I'm going back for another one Dad". Shamefully, I didn't even purchase a bottle.....

Fixated on "Mr Chuckle" above, the festival's resident balloon bending clown. Do you know what is yet?

It's a sword! Oh, the imagination! The practicality appealed to me too, as if maneuvering a 4 year old round a packed festival isn't tricky enough, we now had a 4 year old determined to have a balloon fight with anyone he encountered - even if they didn't have their own balloon sword to fend him off with. "Be careful" was our continual, yet futile, cry.

The picture above was taken today, as Luca lapped the office of our local tyre repair centre. "Don't photo me" he continually wailed, all the while conceitedly shaping his body into camera friendly poses.

But why were he and I in a tyre centre today rather than our usual weekday abodes of office and nursery? Because this morning was the latest of Luca's school inductions (in preparation for his August start date), so I took the day off to accompany him. It was a peculiarly surreal experience, as we (and other parents) arrived at the school to be faced with a large group of awkward looking 11 year olds. These kids were our children's "buddies", and had been individually allocated to each of our 4/5 year olds to show them around - they'll also be their buddies when school starts for real to help them ease in.

The look of concern on all parents faces - mine included no doubt - as our small ones were led nervously away by hand by the Primary 7's was complete, and I'm certain I wasn't alone in illogically feeling levels of trepidation as Luca was led out of sight. Following a coffee and (rather stunted) chat amongst ourselves, we were allowed access to the kids again. Luca, in the mere 20 minute period (although it felt longer) had rather predictably reverted to his bolshy self and was tearing around the schools gardens with Alex, his buddy.

Alex, incidentally, is a dead ringer for Ron Weasley from Harry Potter.

While at the school, I had a rather illuminating chat with the Mum of Murdo, one of Luca's nursery friends. Or ex nursery friends. It transpires she pulled her son out of Luca's nursery last week after he'd been repeatedly hurt by another child. Sound familiar? For those of you who don't recall, I myself had a succession of meetings (heated at times) a year or so ago with the nursery over the injuries being sustained by Luca. On a personal level, all has been fine with Luca since then (I guess I'm not an easy person to ignore) but it drives home the necessity to continue to be vigilant. Or awkward, as I can be prone to be, and most likely am again.

I'm going to be one of those pain in the a**** parents the school hates aren't I?

On a more positive note, Luca continues to advance and has developed a rather wicked sense of humour. He has a sly and intelligent wit, and occasionally even demonstrates understated humour. Of course, he also still enjoys laughing at a good fart, but who doesn't?

I'll write in more length later this week (including describing Luca's newly obtained technique used to knock his Dad down), but as the time approaches the witching hour I'll bid a temporary adieu as I depart for bed via the fridge, intending to satisfy my curiosity of the current freshness of that 3 week old pastie with the greenish bit on top.

**Useless fact of the day - Until 1944 parents had to pay to put their children through secondary education**

It is Scotland after all

2011-05-23T13:20:00.000-07:00

It is infrequently that we are allowed to forget where we live. As the rain, snow and hail lash upon us - even attacking us horizontally at times - it is as if our home country is a jealous lover, unwilling to let us dream of another place. Scotland screams at us to love her because of and not despite her faults.

Today proves the theory. As I sat in my office, consciously willing the window to my right to continue to withstand the assault by hard rain, the weather reports provided us updates of the happenings on the unpleasant side of the window pane. Driving rain and gale force winds have barraged much of Scotland today with the North East taking the brunt. My journey home echoed scenes from movies such as "The Day After Tomorrow" and "2012" as my car intricately weaved through the dozens of fallen tree's in it's path.

Someones roof even ended up lying across the dual carriageway halfway between my office and home. Yes, a roof. Ironic really, your roof deserting you in severe weather is a bit like owning a dog that doesn't ever respond to your commands. Isis

At least the Scottish summer (cough) is consistent, much like our Luca. Every day he continues his quest to be the worlds most awkward 4 year old. His delaying tactics when we ask him to do something he doesn't like have now reached legendary status. My personal favourite is the new "fluff between the toes" tactic, which he employs every night before he puts his jammie's on. "Hold on" he'll demand as you attempt to get him ready for bed "I have fluff in my toes". He will then proceed to spend five minutes picking the imaginary fluff from between every one of his toes, determinedly never meeting your gaze, knowing that with eye contact endeth the lie.

He really frighteningly resembles his Mum now. Forget the physicality - eyes, hair, build, smile - he has taken on many of the nuances of his Mother, most pertinently his single minded and determined nature. I love the knowing look he gives you when you tell him to do something, the grin appearing on the corner of his mouth as he contemplates how to manipulate the situation into making you think you've won while actually ending up doing exactly what he wants.

I would write more, but with Lucy's earlier blog (about driving over snakes and chasing bears) having blown everyone elses efforts out the water for a least the next calendar year this effort feels a little superfluous.....

**Useless fact of the day - Despite misconceptions, Scotland actually has the longest summer days in the United Kingdom - 17 hours of daylight. Alternately, Scotland also has the shortest winter days, with a mere 7 hours of daylight**

Granda would have been proud

2011-05-09T13:26:00.001-07:00

As you'll have been aware (I may have mentioned it once, twice or thrice recently), I was playing football this weekend at the theatre of dreams - Firhill Stadium, home of Partick Thistle FC. It was great fun walking out onto the hallowed turf, and my enthusiasm obviously influenced the club photographer - if you click on the link below you may recognise a certain ageing enthusiast:-
www.ptfc.co.uk/media/photo_galleries/miscellaneous_galleries/2010-2011/firhill_cup_and_fun_day/image_011

Once viewed, please vote on the poll on the right........

It's not only opposing strikers who have had to put up with my close attentions of late, Luca has also "enjoyed" a little more of my time of late. Here he is above outside the polling station before I cast my vote (I voted Green just to p**s off Alex Salmond) sporting the most curious of grins. Click on the picture to gain a closer image, has Luca been taking smiling lessons from Cherie Blair?

Back to Firhill, here's the boy getting his face painted. That familiar reticent smile and questionable stare was bestowed upon the face painter throughout

I'm a tiger!

For most of you this picture is simply a cute photo of Luca eating a cake. Dad however will be looking at Luca's company - yes, that's Willie Kinnibugh, Simon Donnelly and Jackie McNamara in his company

Yes, this was his favourite bit of the day. We simply couldn't get him off it, he loved it. Luca is without question the most cautious of children, so we relished watching him repeatedly throw himself from the top of this bouncy slide. I've rarely seen him so carefree. Indeed, at one point he threw himself from the top with such abandon that he didn't touch the slide until halfway down, rolling the rest of the way down like a chubby avalanche. "This is really good!" he squealed as he prepared to climb the steps again while simultaneously hiding the fact that he'd hurt his elbow.

Unfortunately I don't have any pictures of Carole yet. But fear not, as I will in the next blog. Carole bought a raffle ticket at the stadium, and when the draw was made during a break in play was delighted to hear she'd won something. Her disappointment as she reached the centre circle to find her prize was a signed picture of the Partick Thistle squad was negated by the company around her. As the photographer lined her up for a picture she stopped him to insist on having "two good looking men in the picture with her"

She wasn't referring to Luca and I.

Two Thistle players were quickly identified and rounded up into the picture, both giggling like schoolboys. "They'll have thought I was a proper cougar" Carole confided with me later, "but I don't care" she declared, falling about in laughter

**Useless fact of the day - A "cougar" refers to a powerful, predatory older woman who uses her appeal and status on younger, more inexperienced males**

My dog the racist

2011-04-28T13:30:00.000-07:00

My dog is a racist. A curious statement granted, but a correct assumption nonetheless. Yoda, our little Jack Russell is the most timid of dogs. I don't think I can even adequately describe in prose how timid she is. To give an example, Carole was throwing out a piece of bubble wrap last week. But what do you do with bubble wrap? You pop it, it's an entirely instinctive and strangely pleasurable act. Unless you are Yoda. Upon hearing the first pop she bolted up the stairs ands hid underneath our bed. That's how timid she is.

But I digress. Why is she a racist? Because it has become apparent of late she views fellow dogs in one of two ways - with aggression or friendship. So, Poodles - friendship. Bulldogs - friendship. Springer Spaniels - friendship. Black Labradors however? Wuff, wuff, snarl, bark bark bark bark bark. Some dogs fetch sticks, others can crawl, some even roll over and play dead. Mine is a racist.

Xenophobic canines aside (words I never imagined I would write), the less frivolous side of tonights blog, of course, belongs to Luca. With another week having passed, I thought it best to present a photographic record of the week to illuminate all on his activities. The photo at the top is an irrelevance, but was taken outside my company's Peterhead base (I was up there for a series of meetings) which left me wondering how long such a nice view outside your workplace would take to become just another everyday image to which you'd be aware of but ultimately ignore? More interestingly, the picture directly above was taken of Luca in what is curiously one of his favourite surroundings - the Tesco supermarket cafe. I guess there is no accounting for taste, but he considers this a genuine treat.

This is in our bedroom, early on a Saturday morning as Luca (successfully, natch) convinced Carole and I that sleepy time was over and that his day was due to begin. The odd creature in the foreground (other than Luca...) is the boys favourite current toy. A £1.50 rubber spiky piggy. Of all my qualities the main one he has inherited is my desire for cheap tat.

The above image was taken during Aberdeen's semi final tie at Scotlands national stadium in Glasgow (Hampden Park), where I unfortunately took residence for the day. Great atmosphere, but a resounding 4-0 defeat is about as much fun as a fart in an elevator

With summer upon us, it was time for a new hat for Luca. Yes, that's a "Transformers" hat. You may not need many guesses as to which parent took him shopping that day.

The hat has rarely left his head since. The following day he wore it all day at nursery. When I removed it from his head that evening (under duress I might add) the top of his hair was so plastered to his head the style resembled that of a Newton Abby monk. Here he is again above, with hat on again of course, at Haddo House on Easter Sunday. We attended their annual "Easter Egg Hunt". As you can see, Luca's attempts at searching proved a little futile, so instead he proudly displayed a stick he found instead.

But there's a playground on site too, which of course offered him some recompense.

Time and time and time and time and time again...........

"Last shot Dad, I promise"

Finally, here he is above just before his Asthma Clinic appointment. Due primarily to the relief his inhaler has provided him (alongside various other methods and factors), the cough he's had almost his entire life has entirely disappeared. Our clinic appointment was designed to discuss his progress, as well as an opportunity for his parents to speak about any concerns. However, as I had asthma myself as a child I had few queries to air. The most interesting part of the appointment for me was the doctors record taking. Our formerly tiny mite now stands at an impressive 3ft 5.5 inches.

**Useless fact of the day - On average, a person produces half a litre of fart gas every day, distributed over an average of around fourteen daily farts**

It's not my fault.....

2011-04-20T02:28:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry. Again. My excuse for lack of blogging activity of late is simple - my PC has broken down, again. What's wrong with it? I don't know, I push the button and it doesn't turn on.

Yes, it's plugged in.

So, until it's repaired I'm afraid my blogs will continue to be updated from my work PC, and as such will be devoid of photographs. On the positive side, however, my camera is building a extensive collection of pictures - primarily of Luca, natch - of which I'll post all upon repair of my home PC.

Every negative has a positive. A bit like Colonel Gadaffi. Yes, he's a tyrant, a maniac. But he will one day die and feed the undernourished Libyan ground worms

I haven't seen much of Luca lately unfortunately. Due to work and other obligations I've been away a great deal longer than I prefer. For example, I was away half this past weekend in Glasgow for Aberdeen's semi-final against Celtic. We lost 4-0. Our 4 hour drive home through unending traffic and roadworks provided little comfort too funnily enough.

I made up for it yesterday however, taking the day off work (yep, I sometimes don't work....) and spending the day with a 4 year old who could barely remember my face. We spent the day at various parks, shops and the cinema ("Rio", it was great) before an exhausted tot and I returned home to put our feet up. Interestingly, he already slouches on the sofa like a fat 50 year old. What's he going to be like once he actually reaches that age?

He's a real tease at present too. I've mentioned previously of his habit of turning off the bathroom light whenever I go in, but he's also now started to adopt songs for various occasions. For example, if he catches me getting dressed in the morning he'll trot through, smack my butt and begin singing "Daddy's got a bare tummy, bare bummy, bare tummy". How do you combat this? I'm perennially to busy laughing to chastise him

What else? Carole appears much improved, as the antibiotics seem to have cleared the worst of what was ailing her. However, the doctor, as standard up here it appears, has seemed very vague on the actual cause even if he was able to provide a solution. Perhaps I'm being pernickety, but I'd prefer a clearer and more straightforward diagnosis rather than going straight for the drugs every time.

And me? I'm going to Greenland. With a new contract having commenced at my work I'm being (most likely forcibly) loaded onto a charter aircraft next month to organise the customs/logistical side of operations in Kangerlussuaq. Sound like fun? I don't think so......

**Useless fact of the day - Greenland has a population of 56,452 and is the least densely populated dependency or country in the world. It's also a bit cold**

Is this a good day or bad? 05/04/11

2011-04-05T07:01:00.000-07:00

A little good news just filtered through. I've gained a place in the Firhill Cup, a football competition taking place at Firhill Stadium, hope of the (in)famous Partick Thistle. Full scale 11-a-side game on the legendary pitch where past masters (such as Alan Hansen, Mo Johnston and Chic Charnley) have plied their trade. It appears I'll be playing in my favoured right back position, so with the clock to kickoff counting down (33 days....) I need to get in training so as to not completely humiliate myself. "But you're almost 36 years old now Gary" you'll be saying, "and you were never much cop even in your pomp". These are valid points, the validity of which I'll accept. But still ignore.

Can you tell I'm excited yet? In other matters, I'm taking Luca to the doctor tomorrow. He's developed a very curious scratching tendency which is causing concern. At present he has prominent scratches across his face and back (most administered as he sleeps) and has even scratched a chunk out the top of his head. I'll update further tomorrow.

Coincidentally Carole also has an appointment tomorrow, as the practice work toward a solution for her lingering infection. The initial prognosis was tonsillitis, followed by a contradiction last week where they claimed it may instead be glandular fever. However, the blood results have come back indicating this is not the case. Similarly to Luca's, I'll post further as soon as I have word.

**Useless fact of the day - A common natural remedy to child scratching on Google is to give the child a starch bath, with the bathwater including one tablespoon of starch, three teaspoons of cold water and one pint of boiling water**

Is anyone still reading? 30/03/11

2011-03-30T12:51:00.000-07:00

As recompense for the long delay between entries of late, I felt it best to begin with a couple of pictures of Luca. Is he still at the "awww" age, or are we starting to think "crikey, he's becoming a big lump"? Let's find out, please vote on the the poll on the right hand side of the page......

Carole and I are escaping our little lumpus for a weekend shortly. In the last weekend of June we're (along with a couple of friends) flying to London for a mini break. Caroles experience of London is surprisingly limited so this is an opportunity to show her the attractions (and detractions) of the UK's capital. Our hotel seems perfectly nice - www.hilton.co.uk/islington - although the intent is not to spend a great deal of time there. With much still to be planned, our itinerary already includes:-

London Eye

Madame Tussauds

Emirates Stadium (Arsenals ground)

Camden Market

Soho (at night.......naturellemant)

Club Koko - NME Tour (indie music gig)

Wimbledon

House of Parliament

If anyone wishes us to deposit any flaming bags of excrement to the latter attraction please let us know. And please be assured they'll be delivered with gusto.

During our London visit we may even bump into Boris Johnson. Can you imagine what a treat it would be to kick the posh, smug, conceited, racist toff endlessly in the cojones? It would make my year :)

Political negativity aside, there's still much to plan for our intentionally cliched touristy-esque visit. And yes, we're flying. Perhaps Carole can knock me out A-Team/BA Baracus style in order to avoid my girlish squeals as the aircraft rattles it's way up the runway.

Most likely Carole will be fit by the time we travel. She's currently under the weather to such a degree that I (as in Mr get-out-of-bed-at-the-last-minute) have been responsible both for the dog walking and Luca duties in the mornings while she snuffles distressingly in bed. The dogs are easy enough, but Luca is a different challenge. It's commonplace for me to forget to put my underpants on before my trousers at 7am, so to have to remember to put the right clothes on the toddler, feed him the right breakfast, give him his tablets and inhaler, brush his teeth and hair, wash his hands and face and make sure he has a stallion-esque wee-wee too is a challenge akin to that faced by the tortoise in his race with the rabbit

Except without the happy ending

Dinner has been a challenge too. Luca has continued to eat well. but Carole and I less so. I've attempted to cook healthily, but I'm certain I don't need to spell out the fallacy of my attempts. I've since learnt that frying isn't healthy, and that you don't empty three quarters of a jar of chilli powder into any dish, no matter how bland I felt it was.

And me? I'm starting to resemble a plate of chips.

So what is wrong with Carole? As you know she was recently diagnosed and treated for tonsillitis. However, she has never recovered and as such I made another appointment for her for today. Interestingly the doctor feels the original diagnosis was incorrect, and it's more likely she has glandular fever. Blood tests are following tomorrow so I'll post another update as soon as the results are in.

Luca has been busy of late too. His football training has continued unabated and his progress has surprised me. He can now dribble the ball, keeping it between his feet at all times. I can't do that! He also caused me much amusement at Sundays session. I'd always thought he was a lefty, but of late he has been using his right foot a great deal more prominently. With this in mind I enquired of him which foot he preferred. "This one!" he declared proudly, kicking his right foot into the air. However, his over-exuberance was his (literal) downfall as his upward motion was too great and physics took over........

He also has a new favourite film. I discovered an old copy of "Transformers The Movie", a cartoon film from my childhood (1985-ish) and so put it on for him, fully expecting a derisory reaction to the rather dated visuals. However, quite the contrary occurred and he's now viewed it on at least 7 or 8 occasions now. I watch it with him, but only for the sake of keeping my son company you understand.

Being on call this past weekend left me trapped locally, so Carole took Luca for a visit to the Macduff Aquarium. He's obsessed with fish and excitedly returned home with a present he'd brought home for Dad, a rubber octopus. "I got a present for you!" he squealed as he ran into the living room on his return, "an octopus for Daddy!". "Thank you Luca" I happily replied, "can I play with my new present?"

I still don't think I've touched it. Indeed, I think Luca is sleeping with it again tonight.

**Useless fact of the day - "Transformers The Movie" featured the vocal talents of the legendary Orson Welles, filming his last ever movie before he died**

Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry

2011-03-13T08:49:00.001-07:00

Two weeks since my last blog. TWO WEEKS! What's my excuse this time? Is it due to Liz's latest visit, as this "Luca blog" is ostensibly transmitted primarily for her benefit? I know there are other keen voyeurs of Luca's latest activities, but as there is no "right to reply" section on this blog I will stand as firmly behind this ill thought out argument as belligerently as a Lib Dem MP stands behind their coalition while the Tory's strip this country of it's entire cultural worth.

What's more, today's entry is going to be of the rushed variety. I'm playing football in Aberdeen in an hours time, and still haven't even yet checked to see if the team strips are out the wash. I feel a "Caaarrroooolllleee, help!" moment coming on.

The pictures present are a bit of a mish mash and as always not in any cogent order. The top picture is Luca in the local cafe (what, again?) while the above was taken as he sat beside me in one of my works vans. As previously mentioned, he loves it (front seat!) but the perverse side of me felt it better to upload the only photo taken that day (out of around 20) of an almost dismissive yawn.

At the chemist here, collecting another inhaler for his asthma. A rather pointless exercise of late however, as I've recently been "treated" to a household filled with germs and bugs. Indeed, Carole, Liz and Luca's colds ran concurrently, and the endless stream of coughs emanating from our living room resembled a rather flemmier version of Paul McCartney's "Frog Chorus"

Coincidentally, did you know that "The Frog Chorus" was (I think) the first music single I ever owned? I've always found it rather amusing that most people lie about their first single. No-one ever admits their first single was "Making Your Mind Up" by Bucks Fizz do they?

However, back to Luca. This was taken today after football training. And yes, he's getting far too big for rides of this ilk. I did tell him. But he just looked at me blankly. Rather resembling Barrack Obama's expression every time a journalist asks him why he hasn't yet ordered the assassination of the clearly maniacal Colonel Gadaffi.

Here's the new floor of our bathroom. Luca's chest puffs out any time someone new sees it. "I chose it, I chose it" squeals the munchkin as he desperately points to the flooring.

And here's the new bigger bath. "You and I could fit in that together" I said to my wife with a glint in my eye.

She's still laughing.

**Useless fact of the day - The average person visits the toilet 2500 times a year**

As Bing would say, "It's Been A Long, Long Time"

2011-02-20T14:15:00.000-08:00

As my blogs steadily become as infrequent as Luca's visits to the barber, I'm afraid I'm finding it increasing problematic when attempting to recall the events of the previous week or two, particularly those of the more trivial variety of which I'm particularly fond. A simple solution would be to blog more. But then again, would a simple solution to the MP's expenses saga simply be to discontinue the thieving ba***rds right to claim any future expenses? In this life, even the most logical paths often lead to a 50ft high brick wall with an ocean of piranhas on the opposite side.

Above is Luca, in a picture taken a week past Saturday as he, his Mum and I trailed round a retail outlet of the more ceramic variety, in this case "Topps Tiles". Our mission, as accepted, was to locate floor and wall tiles for our upcoming new bathroom. A long overdue job, our upstairs bathroom having always been as welcoming as a fart in an elevator.

Here's the floor tiles above, a slightly surprising but unanimous choice. Who located this particular sample however? Luca! Our 4 year old boy version of Rapunzel found this on one of his many laps around the store (he has become much livelier of late - more of that to follow) and brought it to his parents attention. "Mummy, Daddy, look - it looks like lots of sweeties, I like that....."

Luca's attention span - and patience - wears thin with indelible pace, and due to this (though my Vesuvius-esque rumbling stomach influenced proceedings also....) we left the store shortly after for lunch at a child friendly restaurant near Portlethen. Both he and his Mother looked on in horror as I devoured my rather odd meal of deep fried black pudding in a green sauce. And we think the French are odd for eating horses. (racial stereotype, tick)

This is our kitchen. When? I can't remember. Why is Luca grinning so? I don't know. But would surmise a chocolate based confection played a part in this smile.

I took one of my company's stores vans home with me on Friday night, as with the recent house upgrading of late we've been left with a garden shed packed tighter than Imelda Marcos' shoe suitcase. My car is a little of the compact variety (it's like playing a human version of Tetris every morning as I bend and twist myself into the drivers seat) but the van provided both space - and much excitement for a certain 4 year old. "Is this your new van Dad? I like it, very, very much!" Much like his trip aboard the fire engine of a few months ago, Luca squealed with excitement as he climbed into the high seating position of the passenger side. "Where are we going?" he yelled as we pulled out the street, "Are we going to Banchory? Or maybe even Lincoln! Ooooooh!". Thankfully his general air of giddiness caused him not only to not hear my response to the negative, but also to have forgotten the original question once we arrived back in our street ten minutes later........

Further to my earlier referral of Luca's increase in energy of late, as most of you are already aware, Luca was prescribed an inhaler by the doctor just over a month ago in an attempt to combat the coughing fits that have blighted long periods of his life thus far. They surmised the cause was most likely a mild form of asthma, and appear to have been correct. Since the beginning of this trial his coughing has almost entirely been eradicated.

With this, he's been infused with a greater degree of energy and general enthusiasm. He's enjoying activities such as his football training far more as a result, which is a great relief to bear witness to. Speaking of which, his physical dexterity is increasing week on week, and his eye-to-ball co-ordination has improved greatly too. It's interesting watching him move, and very noticeable that his greatest strengths are his pace, ability to weave and general upper body strength in comparison to his peers. Perhaps, with this is mind, it won't be football he excels at but rugby instead. Watch this space.

I'm tired now. Have I written enough? Time for bed (said Zebedee)

**Useless fact of the day - Possession of LSD in the UK can carry sentences of up to 7 years in prison**

The Luca-a-thon continues (6th Feb 2011)

2011-02-06T15:08:00.000-08:00

With greater predictability than that of a snoozing House of Commons attendee, my weekend didn't pan out as expected. On Saturday I was due to visit Perth for Partick Thistle's cup tie against St Johnstone, but due to snow, ice and rain (despite unseasonably good weather in our home town) my trip was cancelled before I even hit the Southbound motorways. With this, and following a trip to the gym on the way home as personal recompense, I arrived home looking for an alternative way to spend my day. Luca, as always, provided it.

He and his Mum arrived home from a birthday party shortly after my return (Amy from nursery for the pedants out there), and following a little coaxing ("No thanks Dad, I want to stay at home and read my books instead") Luca threw his coat and hat on and strode out with me to watch our local Highland League team, Inverurie Loco's, take on Fraserburgh in what was (well, almost) a local derby. Here he is above, posing at the halfway point between our house and the football stadium.

Like time, Luca waits for no man as he strode purposefully on

At the game, where our vertically challenged child found a gap in the barriers which allowed him unobstructed access to the events on the pitch. He held this position for several minutes, until one of the home defenders cleared the ball out of play, only just missing a rather startled 4-year-old. At this point he retreated behind the barrier and stated a new preference to be lifted up instead

Is he watching the game intently here, or was the burger stand in that direction? You decide

With the game won at 2-0, Luca decided it was time to leave and go elsewhere instead. The park proved a popular alternative despite the 20 minute walk to get there. "You should have taken the car silly Daddy" lectured a stern Luca

Yes, he is still rather cautious at times, as he demonstrates above. "I might fall!"

I took this picture on his 17th shot on this particular slide. It's really nice watching your kids play, until your patience wears thin. "Last shot Luca" I called out several times. "Just one more" came the oft repeated fib by a toddler chancing his luck

Different slide, same park. Yes, it does get dark REALLY quickly up here.......

Luca's stomach began growling as loudly as mine at this point, so we took off toward the nearest cafe for some tea at this point. Here he is running as always, albeit in the style of a tortoise having a panic attack.

Today brought the usual early rise, and Luca and I began the now familiar trek toward Culter for his football training. Most of the exercises today were based upon using different parts of the feet, particularly the sole of the foot, and the heel (to backheel). Luca performed quite well - he gets very excited when he does something well - although I am noticing a pattern. He tends to perform quite confidently when I sit at the side of the hall and observe, but less so when I'm right beside him to assist. Parent participation is necessary for many of the exercises so I will have to persist, but it's become very apparent that my close presence causes nerves in the young one, and a faster rate of frustration if he doesn't perform a task well.

It's very apparent that this is due to his desire to impress his Dad, whereas he is much more relaxed the less "hands on" I am. I'm making sure I praise him highly when he does well, and not showing (at least I hope not) any frustration when he shows less aptitude, but it's something I'm going to have to remain conscious of.

I just want him to have fun just now, and not to worry about disappointing Dad. But how do you convince a toddler of such logic?

On a different matter, he's been making frequent mention of his extended family regularly of late. Perhaps it's time to get travelling again! In the past week his utterances have included:-

"I want to go see Granny Jo" (highly predictable!)

"Granda's funny, he tells Granny and me fibs. He does it all the time" (Dad, I'll be having words....)

"I want to go to Lincoln to see Grandma and her cat - it would like a cuddle wouldn't it?"

"Cade and Braeden live far, far away. Can I go and see them?"

"I want to speak to Max on the phone all the time"

These are some of the nicer/cuter/odder (delete as applicable) things he's said lately. However, he has also become inappropriate at times too. Most recently, as a rather portly staff member passed us by in the supermarket he hollered out "That man is really fat isn't he?". What do you do? I waited for a distance to form between said employee and ourselves before admonishing our rude boy and explaining how hurtful his remark was. Was this the correct course of action? You decide - please vote in the new poll.

Finally, I provided a movie for Carole and I to watch this evening. As you're aware, Carole has a strong preference for horrors, so I surmised my choice of "The Tortured" would prove popular. As such, we sat down, snuggled in and started watching......

It turned out to be a film about a young boy, not much older than Luca being abducted from his own garden. Caroles opinion post film? "I really can't stop thinking about it now". What are the odds on nightmares in the Stewart household tonight?

**Useless fact of the day - Only about one in every 10,000 reported missing/abducted children are not found alive**

In Caroles words.....

2011-01-31T06:04:00.000-08:00

Carole's emailed me a few pictures of her recent trip to the beach with Luca. Beneath each is her own description of events. So can today's post be classified as Caroles? As Kenny Dalglish would say - "Mebbe's aye, mebbe's naw"

"We had a brisk walk on the beach"

"Mini motor bikes at Codona's"

"Ham sandwich followed by choc ice cream at pier bistro - Saturday 22nd Jan after Megamind and a walk on the beach"

"Very surprising but difficult to capture but he sat beautifully on this shot but it reared quite far up up high in the sky!!"

As ever, he's had a good number of trips lately. This past weekend he accompanied me to the office while Carole recovered from tonsillitis (almost clear now thankfully) on Saturday, as well as his football training on Sunday morning.

His progression at training has been substantial, even in the short 3 week period he has so far attended. Most impressively this week he was regularly performing a "drag-back", where he rolls the ball backwards with the sole of his foot before turning and running with it. I was most impressed.

Luca was less so. After training had finished, while I helped change him back into his trousers from his shorts, I asked him if he'd had fun. He dipped his gaze and slowly shook his head. "Why not?" I enquired. He sighed. "I'm not very good at this" he said quietly

Yes, my heart almost broke for him

"But you were really good today" I insisted. "I really wasn't" he muttered back. "You were", I countered. "Remember how many goals you scored? And you were really good at dribbling. I was very impressed". He looked up at this point and a little smile crept upon his face.

We went to the cinema afterwards as a reward for his efforts. "Marmaduke" was the movie of the morning, a live action (as opposed to the more common cartoon films we attend) film about a Great Dane dog who can talk. It was better than it sounds, although the doggy dancing bit at the end caused me to voluntarily bang my head off every solid surface within the vicinity

As so often, Luca has the appearance of someone who's been in a fight. This time it's been caused by an infection which has affected the bottom of his nose and upper lip. He's been prescribed an antibiotic cream by the doctors however which has already cleared much of it - I'm certain by the next time I take his picture there'll be no trace

And finally, Carole and I (and shaggy of course) visited "Strathburn School" this morning in preparation for August, when he'll begin Primary One. It's a frightening testament to how quickly time passes, albeit he will still be one of the youngest children at the school. Indeed, he'll still only be 4 when it begins. The tour was of interest, and the changes in schools child development is startlingly apparent from our generation. However, some things never change, and my nostrils caught the putrid smell of School Dinners being prepared as we passed the canteen. Overcooked custard, yum yum

I should, however, make mention of the fact that we are to visit the school again in May for one of their recent innovations. Luca, Carole and I will "enjoy" a school dinner together in order to assist in his school familiarisation. How does one prepare their stomach for such a harrowing event?

**Useless fact of the day - School dinners, on average, contain less than half the salt and sugar of a packed lunch**

The word "plethora" was created for this very purpose

2011-01-24T13:39:00.000-08:00

Seven photo's. Ten video's. And a cricked neck for me as I sit uncomfortably awaiting their upload. I'm afraid the timeline of each of these images/video's is so skewed as to make an episode of "Lost" appear logical and well planned out, but onward nonetheless:-

I'm considering charging "Homebase" for the above as a publicity shot. Luca and I were searching for a bathroom suite, and came across the above much to Luca's obvious approval. Did we buy it? No, but we have chosen an alternative, with further details on a later blog, once work begins.

The man in red again, this time proudly showing off his big cockerel. A gratefully received present from Auntie Jane et al, and a "fnar fnar" opportunity for me.

Luca at Pittodrie, home of Aberdeen Football Club. This was his second ever senior game and a successful one to boot. A crushing 6-0 victory for Aberdeen brought plenty of opportunity for the boy to shout and sing.

Here's the build up to the third goal of the game. Luca enjoyed himself, albeit half-time providing him with his greatest thrill - the appearance of Angus the Bull, Aberdeen's mascot. "What's that? That's a funny cow!!!"

Occasionally his focus on the game was lost. "Can I have another bag of crisps Dad?" came a common request, as he kept a careful eye on my bag of "Walkers"

I can't remember when I took this. I do know it's outside Waterstone bookstore. It's not an interesting picture however, I'm sorry. I can't even think of a pithy comment to accompany it.

And here's David Beckham (Mark 2). Taken after Luca's first football training session, his sweaty and shaggy mop somehow even more unkempt than usual.

Onto the videos now, and as promised previously Luca shyly describes his first kiss......

And finally, in a video I'm certain will bring me chastisement, comes Luca's "toilet games". Peculiarly, he enjoys it when I tell him not to use the toilet. Why? I don't know, why is the moon made of cheese?

**Useless fact of the day - The moon isn't made of cheese**

Football crazy....

2011-01-16T08:19:00.000-08:00

Many years ago (well, 4) a boy was born to an overjoyed couple. Said boy grew at an exponential rate, showing great aptitude that, by the year 2026, had resulted in him being considered the greatest footballer that had ever lived

Or not. Luca had his first official football training today, at Culter Sports Centre. It's being run by an organisation called "FootStars", and covers all age ranges from 3 upwards. We've signed him up for an entire block, with each class commencing at 9am on Sunday mornings.

Yes, no more Sunday lie-ins for me, or Luca for that matter. Still, he appeared fully awake as we arrived at the sports centre, and enjoyed every minute. The session was held in the main hall, and was high tempo, for both parents and children. Indeed, I regretted my decision to wear jeans.

Luca's general co-ordination isn't bad, and he can kick the ball quite accurately over distance. However, he appears to have inherited his fathers touch, and attempts to teach him to dribble the ball around cones was comical to say the least.

However, part of this is down to a lack of patience as well as technical aptitude. He understood the exercise, but simply preferred to blast the ball into the net from distance rather than dance around the cones first. "I don't need to do this Daddy" he commented upon noticing my head in my hands, "I can do a goal from a long way away!"

I'm afraid I don't have any pictures of video's this week. My home PC has died temporarily, so I'm typing this from the office. However, I'll update with the plethora of pictures and video's as soon as it's repaired. Of particular interest will be the video discussion with Luca, where he tells me the details of his first kiss......

**Useless fact of the day:- Website "Ehow" describes coaching young children to play football is "like watching a moving stampede"**

Phone bill schmone bill (03/01/11)

2011-01-03T08:57:00.000-08:00

Has everyone voted for Carole yet? If not, please do so in order to ensure I'm able to return home from work to smiles and tasty dinners rather than scowls and leftovers over the coming month.

Speaking of work, despite the UK officially remaining on holiday until Wednesday 5th, much of my afternoon has been spent in front of the PC logged onto my work account, following innumerable requirements by foreign based customers and agents. As previously commented, I love my job sometimes.

Actually, I do normally like it. Is that weird? Are you supposed to enjoy rather than endure work? I feel a new poll topic coming on......

Today hasn't been an entire waste however. Earlier I took Luca out for a short sojourn, partly to purchase some necessities, but also to give his Mum some peace to clean and cook lunch for her friends (Gail) imminent visit. Luca, as is his wont, alternated wildly between huge displays of enthusiasm followed by sudden drops of energy. He's still a little unwell, albeit showing a little improvement.

I am wondering if it's a bug that affects his brain however. Curiously, over the last few weeks, he has begun to mistakenly call me "Mum" on occasion. What does this mean? Answers on a postcard please.

I'm purposely ignoring the obvious explanation, that he shares a similar mental capacity to his Granny Jo, who is notorious for getting names wrong. If there is a God, I may start praying - surely we can't be condemned with two of the same ilk?

I'm only joshing Mother

Our short forgetful boy enjoyed a long day yesterday, as Carole and I drove him to Aberdeen to enjoy/endure the New Year sales. While there, Carole took him to see "Animals Utd" at the cinema while I browsed the shops. Why didn't I go in with them? Firstly, because following a Christmas/New Year break primarily spent sitting down and eating, I was glad of the chance of a wander for a couple of hours.

And secondly because I'd seen the reviews to said movie........

We all met up again afterwards (just in time, as I'd found a bar in their absence and my first and only alcoholic beverage had give me a taste for it) and diversified the rest of the day between responsible shopping (purchasing storage containers and crockery) and ensuring Luca didn't break/steal too many items that would be noticed. Still, the main point of the day was met - little scruffy head was utterly exhausted by his efforts and ambled to bed early, allowing his Mum and I a little more free time than we're commonly used to.

We spent the remaining proportion of the evening watching "The Godfather Part 2" on TV, which followed our viewing of the original instalment the previous night (I think Part 3 is on tonight too). Unbelievably, for a movie buff such as myself, I've never seen this trilogy of movies, which have long been regarded as the greatest in cinema history.

And my reaction to the classic trilogy thus far? Is it heresay to suggest they're overly long and even perhaps even a little boring too?

At least Hogmanay wasn't as dull (I feel the God of moviedome will strike me down any second now). Although we neither went out, nor had people round this year, we at least had a little fun with it with an alcohol based pamper evening. I cooked (and we lived to tell the tale), and followed it up with copious supplies of Jack Daniels and Mojito's, all interspersed with relaxing baths and massages utilising some of the items I'd bought for Caroles Christmas - an electric massager (which looked like a futuristic shower head) and manual foot massager (which resembled an orange dog stool). All very amusing, and unbelievably the following day brought about a surprising lack of hangovers.

There is much else to tell but in the interim - Happy New Year

**Useless fact of the day - Massage is the oldest form of medical care. Egyptian temples show people being massaged**

Ladies and gentlemen please press your buzzer to vote for your favourite.....

2010-12-31T10:25:00.000-08:00

Following work today, Luca accompanied me on a trip to the local supermarket to pick up provisions for Hogmanay. Whilst there we visited the cafe for Luca's tea, during which I picked up a copy of the "Evening Express" newspaper to peruse through while old shaggy head devoured his ham sandwich. My jaw, however, dropped upon hitting page 8. See image below:-

Too far away? OK, here it is in close up:-

Yep, that's our wedding picture again. Carole has (unbeknownst to us) been entered by the paper into their "Bride of the Week" contest. I rather think she's pleased....... So what happens now? Well, you have to vote of course, see below:-

And what's the prize? Well, nothing really, she'd then enter "Bride of the Year". But I think it may please her, which in turn would please me, and when I'm pleased I blog more, which means you'd then get more pictures of scruffy the toddler - everyone wins! So pick up your phone......

See link for details of the contest:- www.eveningexpress.co.uk/Article.aspx/1020714?UserKey=

Despite having to work on Hogmanay (boo), it's been a good day thus far. In addition to the surprise above, we've now had our new chandelier fitted in the living room, as captured below:-

Rather grand isn't it? It's certainly bright. Indeed, you know when you're under anaesthetic in the hospital, and being operated by that underqualified relief doctor from Slovenia? And he has his manual upside down and cuts the wrong bit, and you're drawn toward the blinding white light beyond the pearly gates? Our chandelier is like that, but brighter.

There's no real reason for the picture above, other than this blogs first picture of him as a 4 year old. He loved his birthday yesterday, despite temporarily departing for bed half way through! He's still struggling with illness at present and isn't quite 100% - but being the annoyingly bright child he is he has the tendancy to use it as a mean to manipulate a situation to meet his own ends.

I should end this entry now, as I must begin preparing Hogmanay dinner. It is, of course, a dish I've never previously attempted, so it could be terrific or terrible. Much like 2010 then (albeit more of the former), so rather apt.

Happy New Year from everyone from the Inverurie Stewart Clan, and I hope you enjoy the video below of Luca during his birthday celebrations yesterday.

**Useless fact of the day - January was named after the God "Janus", who has two faces which can simultaneously look backwards into the old year as well as toward the new one**

Yay it's Christmas....oh no, that's it finished already

2010-12-27T14:25:00.000-08:00

The first official Stewart (Inverurie clan) family Christmas has passed, in a seemingly quicker fashion than a Vince Cable backtrack

Who, Dad, is definitely 67 years old, born in 1943. Sorry, private debate:)

A quieter Christmas than is normally standard, Carole, Luca and I stayed at home this year to complete our first year as (officially) a married section of the Stewart family. Carole grew ever more excited by the prospect of organising Christmas as the time drew nearer, and indeed was out of bed and downstairs continuing preparations on Christmas morning a good deal earlier than Luca and I.

Luca was, of course, a particular curiosity. His excitement leading up to the day was palpable (and comparable to his mother), but on the morning itself he awoke at his own pace and enjoyed a leisurely and disciplined breakfast in the kitchen before even contemplating opening his presents.

As expected, however, his temporary level of cool evaporated entirely once the wrapping paper began it's journey around our living room in a thousand pieces. Here he is below, anarchically bellowing that "It's Humungusaur!!!!"

Following further preparations, including the prerequisite round of telephone calls to loved ones (apart from Banchory, where Mum was at church while Dad spent his morning dog walking - a Christmas first for him!), dinner began, and what a feast it was. We'd purchased a goose rather than turkey this year (simply to be a little different), and what an inspired choice it turned out to be - delicious. So delicious in fact that the unthinkable occurred. We had no room left for dessert! Not that Luca minded, due to his decision to blind himself, as follows:-

Luca wasn't alone in playing up for the camera however, as demonstrated below by Carole looking pretty:-

And me looking rather less so:-

We also attended a second Christmas yesterday, enjoying a Boxing Day in Banchory. While Carole and Mum blethered in the kitchen, Luca and Granda played together in the living room. An amusing sight, as I sat watching the Stewart's of two generations apart playing games that best demonstrated each others OCD tendencies.

And the meal? Delicious of course. Was it as good as the previous days feast? Do I look stupid enough to answer that question?

**Useless fact of the day - Apart from mouse/mice, goose/geese is the only animal where the singular and pleural words have different stems**

Iiiiiittsss Chrrriiisssssstttmmaaaassssssssssss!

2010-12-24T12:13:00.001-08:00

Ding dong merrily on high indeed, Christmas is now upon us. Recession? Work stress? Pa, these things are entirely incidental compared to the pant wetting excitement of the imminent arrival of Kris Kringle down the chimney tonight.

As the season expects, Christmas is a time where it's most appropriate to evaluate your worth at this time of year. Most pertinently, have I been a good boy? I think so, but to dissuade any likelihood of debate we will move quickly onto Luca......

.....who has become as interesting a character as you could expect. With a brain like a sponge and an ability to act and improvise in almost any situation, he has become an intriguing presence to be around. My only current issue is that he has now hit the "why" stage.

"Daddy, why are you driving slowly", he'll enquire.

"Because the roads are slippy" I'll reply

"Why?" he'll ask

"Because it's snowing"

"Why?"

"Because moisture freezes into ice crystals in the clouds"

"Why?"

"Because it's cold"

"Why?"

"Because it's winter"

"Why?"

Ad infinitum.......

I often wonder whether the winter or my patience will end soonest

Segueing entirely seamlessly (ahem) onto the next subject, Lucy requested on her last blog for a selection of music to go out running to. Like Dad, compiling music lists is a sad obsession, so for Lucy's benefit here's a list of the 15 best tracks to exercise to:-

Foo Fighters - The Pretender

Biffy Clyro - That Golden Rule

Manic Street Preachers - Australia

Andrew WK - We Want Fun

Avril Lavigne - Sk8r Boi

Supergrass - Caught By The Fuzz

Bon Jovi - It's My Life

Paramore - Decode

The Offspring - Kids Aren't Alright

Gabriella Cilmi - On A Mission

Stereophonics - Dakota

Florence And The Machine - Drumming Song

Katy Perry - Hot N Cold

Elastica - Stutter

Linkin Park - New Divide

I can also provide a list of music to warm down to Lucy, if only you'd ask. Go on, ask. Please ask

Our house has long since been prepared for Christmas. Carole has enthusiastically picked up the baton this year and ran with it. And ran and ran. Our house is awash with Christmasness, even reaching absurdly festive levels in the building of a Christmas gingerbread house, as depicted below:-

Our son has also enjoyed the advent calendars greatly too. We have two separate chocolate calendars. It is now December 24th. And I am yet to sample a single piece of chocolate from my calendar. "You can have one tomorrow Daddy, OK?" is the morning speech repeated to me on a daily basis by everyone's favourite toddler with the dual accent.

My only issue with this years festivities is that Carole's present pile will be little light this year. Due to the severe weather of the past few weeks, deliveries have been slow to the point that internet orders have been entirely worthless. Still, at least I was prepared and purchased a few gifts the old fashioned way - by braving the shops and muscling my way past Christmas shoppers with that tell-tale psychopathic look in their eyes. Luca has accompanied me on a couple of these jaunts, as you can see below:-

Daddy's popularity with the young rapscallion diminishes further with each snow laden trek. However, he always eagerly joins me as the chance of a tasty snack in the nearest cafe is always a high probability. I must improve his table manners though, as is evident below........

Although there are many more Christmas related stories to tell (and embellish), I will take this opportunity to sign off and rejoin my rarely accompanied wife downstairs. She has been a Christmas widow this week as I've continued to work daily and allied it with last minute Christmas shopping in the evenings. So to precede the threat of divorce proceedings, I'll wish you all the happiest of Christmases and will of course be thinking of you.

**Useless fact of the day - Santa Clause is sometimes referred to as Kriss Kringle, a name most likely derived from Christ Kindl (Christ-child). The German name of the Christ Child is Christkind, commonly used in its diminutive form Christkindel**

Luca the actor (Dec 17th 2010)

2010-12-17T07:18:00.000-08:00

Luca was infected by the acting bug on Tuesday, as he and his nursery cohorts performed a Christmas nativity play for us. Here he is below, in full shepherds costume (sans hat)

Can you spot him in the picture below too? Where's Wally indeed

It was an interesting experience watching him, albeit certainly not an intriguing one. Whisper it, but it was a little boring to be honest, and by the end I'm certain I wasn't the only parent staring at the ceiling and thinking about whether Aberdeen FC should play with two strikers up front, or just one with the wide players pushing forward at will. Oh God, what if I'm wrong and I was the only one there wishing I was elsewhere? I'm a bad Dad.

Aside from this, I've been on holiday again for much of this week - I really need to organise my years allowance a little better next year. Almost as a counter to my previous break, this week I've kept busy mainly with DIY. A scary thought, as my skills at home improvements are probably akin to Dawn French's as a fitness trainer.

However, the house is still standing, which is a good, as well as a little surprising. Carole was even impressed by what I've done in her bathroom, although I know she is highly nervous about "hubster" being home alone with a saw, an electric drill and a lot of spare time.....

That said, the work has come to a crashing halt again. The early part of the week (with DIY, Luca's show, football and Christmas shopping) was hugely busy, but the latter stages of this week have been a lot less productive. I've been infected with a heavy cold, and with this I've essentially slept almost constantly for the past 24 hours. When everything that exits your body is coloured a peculiar hue of luminous yellow then you know you're in trouble.

With this cold, my memory isn't great, so my recollection of many Luca related stories of late is restricted to say the least. However, he has been his normal monkey-esque self. We have our Christmas tree up now, and surrounding it is an (already) plentiful supply of presents. This hasn't gone unnoticed by our "cherub", who constantly asks "Is it Christmas yet?". On Wednesday I popped through to the kitchen to prepare his food, only to be disturbed a noise picked up by my bat-like ears (as a parent your hearing improves by about 500%....). It was the sound of paper tearing. I ran through to the living room to see........

........Do I even need to say? A 3 (nearly 4) year old sitting beside the tree with a clump of Christmas wrapping paper in one hand and the resultant opened present in the other. "It's a DVD" he excitedly relayed to me, a smile plastered across his beaming face

The joys. Finally, "enjoy" the video clip below of Luca in his play. He's the one impatiently swinging the toy sheep around by it's tail, and looking almost as bored as his Dad.....

**Useless fact of the day - The term "Nativity Drama" is used by Wellesz^[1] in his discussion of the troparion hymns in the Christmas liturgy of Byzantine Rite Churches, from Sophronius in the seventh century. Goldstein argues^[2] that the label "drama" is misleading, that the troparia are more akin to an oratorio than a play, and that the form is not a precursor of later more decidedly dramatic form**

Easy like Sunday morning

2010-12-05T07:09:00.001-08:00

Why, Mr Stewart, is that a camera in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

Nope, it's just a camera, and to prove it scroll down through the compendium of pictures I've taken these past couple of days........

"You know I'm going to have a poo in your shoe for this, don't you?"

What happened next? Did Luca:-

A - Happily and politely shake hands and engage the store Santa in conversation?

B - Spin round and run to the safety that is the back of his Dad's knee's?

"Look at me Dad, I'm pulling an effeminate pose!"

Smug

Every time we pass through the train station Luca insists on waiting for a short while. "Grandma's train might get here soon" he always insists

This was great. Taken earlier today, Luca witnessed his first ever traditional Punch 'N' Judy show. It's weird watching as an adult, you don't actually recognise its demonstration of severe domestic violence when you're an innocent minded tot.....

"Fireenginefireenginefireenginefireenginefireengineffireengine!" This was parked up in Inverurie town centre, and the firemen allowed an incredibly excited Luca to climb aboard - and even sound the sirens. We thought he might just self combust with excitement at this point......

That smile didn't leave his face until quite some time after

Balloon toy. In the mind of a child, if you don't know what it is then what do you do? That's right, you put it on your head

Or just hit Daddy with it

Luca's illness of the last week has almost passed now, and although his hunger hasn't yet returned his energy is slowly creeping back. He's survived (to a moderate extent anyway) a busy weekend, with a discernible decrease in the number of "wig-outs"

Of course some still remain. We made a trip to Aberdeen yesterday in an attempt to purchase new shoes and boots for him (to complain about). As our trip coincided with his Granny and Granda's visit to the cinema (to view the wholly unappealing "The Girl Who Kicked The Hornets Nest") we arranged to meet up for a drink and a bite. All the way there Luca excitedly told me how he was going to "Cuddle Granny Jo and tickle Granda Ian". But did he?

Nope. He cuddled into me throughout like a neglected 3 month old and whined. At least Granda knew how to rouse him slightly. "What's that?" Granda queried, pointing to an item near the cafe's checkout. "Is that chocolate?" a suddenly re-energised voice replied, "For me............."

Today was busier still. Another trip to Aberdeen ensued, this time with the accompaniment of our resident Mum/Wife. A busy morning in the North East's capital city centre included:-

1. Shoe shopping for Luca - Or "run at full pace around the store in odd shoes" as Luca seemed to think

2. Cinema - We saw "Shrek Forever After". Whisper it, but it was actually really good.......

3. Remote control car racing - A demonstration track had been set up inside the Union Square shopping centre. One of the demonstrators made the mistake of allowing Luca to control one of the cars. How much damage can a 4 year old cause in the space of 30 seconds............

4. Punch 'n' Judy show - Or "A guide to domestic violence and petty theft" as it could be renamed. Great fun, but perhaps something that perhaps should have been phased out around the same time as "The Magic Roundabout" and "The Black and White Minstrel Show"..........

5. KFC - Yes, fast food. My stomach will now perform complex gymnastics over the next few days

6. Fire engine - Imagine children on drugs. Even an instance of this still wouldn't adequately describe Luca's excitement levels during this experience

We also somehow shoehorned the entire stockroom of John Lewis into the back of my car. With the number of wedding vouchers so far spent by Carole there, their shareholders will indeed soon enjoy a Very Merry Christmas

**Useless fact of the day - Wikipedia describes Punch from Punch 'n' Judy as a "deformed, child-murdering, wife-beating psychopath who commits appalling act of violence and cruelty upon all those around him and escapes scot-free**

How long, hmm mmm, has this been going on?

2010-12-03T15:37:00.000-08:00

Has anyone noticed it's been snowing this week?

I'll try to pay scant mention to it tonight, as I'm certain you've been bored (and have bored others) with constant chatter regarding this white stuff. That arrives every year around the same time

Why are we so obsessed with the weather? Every winter the snow falls and we take a day or two off work. We then spend this downtime staring out the window, while simultaneously shaking our heads and muttering "the snow is really starting to lie now". When not doing this we sit in front of the TV, tutting as the news tells us the same scare stories about empty supermarkets and no petrol

And every year everything is fine.

I haven't personally needed to take a "snow day" this week, as I've been on holiday. But I've had the company of a certain L.M.Stewart for much of it - he's picked up another illness, leaving both him and I housebound.

He's OK, but his stomach's sore, his cheeks boiling, his appetite non existent and his cough is akin to that of an 90 year old life-long Woodbines smoker. It was so extreme on Wednesday that he was kept awake until the early hours - his coughing was so constant he couldn't fall asleep.

But - he's a lot better now. Indeed, he went back to nursery today. As much as I enjoyed being with him, it was good to see him back amongst his friends again.

And it was probably more entertaining for him also. As you know (primarily from this blog), I spend an inordinate amount of time with the shaggy headed little terror. However, it's really been brought home to me this week how much time we spend together outside the house, rather than in our home together.

Cinema, park, football, library, swimming, etc, etc. We'll go anywhere, as long as it's a mini adventure. However, it transpires I'm a rather less effectual Dad within the confines of our home. I simply didn't know what to do with him over such lengths of time stuck within the four walls of our house. Carole has always been more home oriented than I, and also has a great deal more patience. I find it difficult not to tire quickly of the games he likes to play (his puzzles, board games, jigsaws, etc), and this became an area of great chagrin.

Luca, as is his wont, requires your constant companionship when ill. Indeed, even trips to the lavatory cause him a degree of upset. At one point when I was having a shower he walked into the bathroom and sat on top of the down turned toilet seat, patiently waiting for me to finish. "Luca, go through to the living room" I laughed through the sound of the fizzing shower jets. "I can't", came the rather wimpy reply, "I miss you"

The one game I can do is fighting however. Despite his illness (and with it the constant spells of limited energy) he has frequently founds the energy to engage me in our customary play flights. "I'm coming to get you Humungasaur" he'll cry, with his face creased into a faux rage, "Krumpalump will destroy you!"

For the record, he long ago christened me Humungasaur and he as Krumpalump as our battle names.....

I'll enter the proviso swiftly before I move on - Luca knows the only person he is allowed to fight is his Dad, and he admirably keeps to this arrangement.

I should go now, as the time has passed the midnight hour. To finish I hope you enjoy the following video of Luca, taken only a couple of days ago. It's a little unique, as for the first time in the light of day he was able to describe the details of the nightmare he'd endured hours previously. Just watch, and enjoy picking out the bits where he's clearly using a bit of "artistic licence".......

**Useless fact of the day - Luca's favourite TV show "Ben 10" now has it's own travelling roadshow. It's next due in Bristol. It's not coming to Aberdeen :(**

It'll be lonely this Christmas

2010-11-27T14:08:00.000-08:00

I'm a little bored.

Carole is out tonight on her "gym girls" Christmas night out. Dressed as a "Sexy Santa". In temperatures of minus 9 degree's.

Me? I'm home alone. Luca went to bed almost as soon as we arrived home from dropping Carole off, and with this the creation of the situation where I find myself with no-one to speak to. Because I'm so lonely I actually shared the giant sausage roll I'd heated up for my dinner with the dogs, just so I'd gain a little attention from some fellow living beings, even just briefly

They ignored me again after the cupboard love ended

I've amused myself by making strawberry and banana ice cream using the new ice cream maker we bought from John Lewis. In common with the rest of the evening it was highly disappointing

I still ate it though. That's how bored I am.

I should start talking about Luca........but there's not much to say. Due to work, football and the weather I didn't see him between Tuesday morning and Friday night. However, he has clearly gained a sense of "humour" during this period.

We were driving home from Aberdeen this evening, when after a (rare) period of quiet contemplation, he barked out "Daddy, where's your hair?". "Excuse me?" I replied. "You never have any hair Dad. I do though, I have lots of hair. You don't, na na na na na na"

He then proceeded to roll his head in laughter.

I'm now on holiday for a week. Expect the next post to be of a more positive variety. In the interim please enjoy this video of Luca running. Not much happens, he just runs. And it's two months old too. Sorry. Bad blog. Must do better

**Useless fact of the day - Luca didn't have a poo between Tuesday and today. Coincidentally the same period during which he didn't see me. He must have missed me so much it made him constipated. Please don't correct me**

Stevie Wonder sings it best

2010-11-22T14:25:00.000-08:00

I'm afraid I'll need to direct you to my "Facebook" page if you wish to view any pictures tonight - the photo upload facility is, in technical parlance, "knackered"

You're not missing much however. I don't have any images of Luca "The Scar" Stewart. His chickenpox has cleared, but for those of you with long memories (not you Mum) you'll recall the affliction from your youth, and the bright red scabs that adorn your body for weeks (nay months) afterwards

Indeed, have a little look at yourself as you get undressed for bed tonight - most of us have at least one small and forgotten scar as a reminder of not listening to our Mums as children. "Stop picking!"

Carole celebrated her birthday on Friday, and a landmark one is was too. It was her 21st! OK, her second 21st - does that still count?

With her birthday falling on a weekday we kept the initial celebrations muted. I cooked a three course meal (OK, I bought the latter two courses from M&S) before cuddling up on the sofa with a movie and a bottle of sparkling wine. The wine must have done it's trick, as Carole fell asleep barely ten minutes into the film, only waking at the end credits to enquire "Was it good?"

Thankfully she was a little more alert the following day. After dropping Luca at his Grandparents ("I'm going to be a tiger and fight Granda!") I took Carole to Huntly for an afternoon of horse riding. She loved it of course, even more so for the additional fact the farm owners owned an almost uncountable number of German Shepherd dogs.

Once the "I want a new Abby" look passed from her eyes, we both climbed atop our respective steeds (Carole gracefully, me rather less so) and took off through the endless acres of forest walks and fields. Caroles horse was gorgeous, with a dual coloured mane and blue eyes, while mine was just big and extremely fast. When booking the trek, I'd rather stretched the truth as to my actual riding abilities, and had convinced the farm owners I was an "experienced" rider.

"Experienced my ar*e" they must have thought, as my horse set innumerable land speed records while I gripped on for dear life, desperately trying to remember if I ever signed that will.

Thankfully, our meal that evening was a little more sedate. I took Carole to "Malmaison" in Aberdeen. It was a beautifully set establishment with an imaginative array of dishes. However, although the food was good, it did just fall just short of what it's reputation would suggest. And the service was slow - it perplexes me that lazy service seems to be deemed acceptable for this standard of restaurant

Although the slow service didn't stop a steady stream of glasses of wine arriving and being quickly consumed by the birthday girl with the ever chattier mouth but ever wilting eyelids.....

**Useless fact of the day - One of the first horses was called a Hyracotherium. It lived about 50 million years ago and was as tall as a fox. It had toes! This horse changed over millions of years to become a modern horse**

Chickenpox

2010-11-15T10:52:00.001-08:00

Luca has chickenpox.

It appeared almost instantly during the night on Thursday. I went in to see him late in the evening, as I'd heard coughing come from his bedroom. However, his cough wasn't troubling him. "Dad", he quietly muttered, "My side hurts".

That's when I discovered the first of his spots, both on his lift hand side. Removal of his jammy top revealed a couple of dozen more.

Now? I couldn't even count them

What else? I had jury duty today,and may be required again later this week. It's an intriguing tale - of which I legally can't divulge further. Sorry

We started spending our wedding vouchers on Saturday. When I say "we" I mean Carole chooses the items, and I carry them.

I've taken up betting too. I put down bets totalling £10 on Saturday, with £5 on an Aberdeen footballing victory (12-1!) and the rest on Audley Harrison to beat David Haye (6-1)

I have a feeling this activity will not make me a rich man.

**Useless fact of the day - Chickenpox is usually a mild disease. However, in adults and children with weakened immune systems, chickenpox can cause serious complications and even death**

Married

2010-11-11T12:48:00.000-08:00

I'm married. As unlikely as I was ever to enter into such a partnership. But I am. And I'm happy.

Carole though? I think best summed up by the email she sent me today titled "First baby steps...." which read as thus:-

""I've got a new email address on yahoo - so I'll be phasing out my old
one :-(
carole.stewart0@yahoo.co.uk""

Obviously it was a smiley face she intended rather than a sad one :)

However, our marriage was almost hastily ended only two days after the wedding. We were in the cinema, enjoying "Paranormal Activity 2" when a "clink, clunk" noise was heard. Carole's head swivelled toward mine. "Was that your ring?" she gasped. Sheepishly I nodded. Having never worn any form of jewellery in my lifetime, the presence of a ring on my finger has caused continual fiddling with said object, and a little too much of this caused the ring to spin off my finger into the inky pitch blackness of the cinema's floor

I found it. My heart, having taken residence in my mouth during my desperate search, gradually lowered

I hope everyone enjoyed the wedding. We did, and what I said in my speech wasn't simply insincere platitudes - I (we) are so grateful for everyone's help throughout. Particularly to our parents and siblings, we honestly, seriously, couldn't have done this without you

I'm disappointed no-one caught Luca's exclamation of "Mummy's a princess" during the vows however. Indeed, the only time Luca was caught on video was during his now infamous heckle during my speech. "Clouds" indeed......

As a final aside for Mum's benefit, I unconsciously muttered a favoured phrase of Granda Bill's as Luca and I drove to nursery recently. "We're off like a flash but we ain't got no cash". "That's funny" he immediately squealed hysterically, "Do it again". I did, and his head rolled with laughter. Now consciously remembering further, I regaled Luca with Granda's infamous "Beep beep galooga galooga". He wailed with laughter. "That's what your great Granda used to say" I told him. "He's a very funny man, isn't he Daddy?"

He was indeed.

I'll post more later, but in the interim see below for a selection of honeymoon pictures from Ireland:-

Outside the famous Killarney Cathedral. Notice the tea cosy Carole had stolen from a local cafe

Carole excitedly clambering astride her white steed. The guy assisting remarkably resembles Charlie from "Eastenders"

My horse. Or cart horse. This is a picture taken before the ride. It would have differed slightly after the ride, what with the leg shaped marks I left in it's side as I desperately held on for dear life. As we cantered through fields, forests and puddles both Carole and the instructor continuously turned round to make sure I was OK. On every occasion I flashed a confident smile, before replacing it with the more familiar look of sheer terror every time they turned away.

**Useless fact of the day - The population of Killarney as at Census 2002 was 12,087**

Play that funky music white boy

2010-10-17T15:31:00.000-07:00

A short one tonight. It's 11.30pm on Sunday night, and this is my final attempt to blog after innumerable false starts across the past few days

It's been a hectic time at work (plus ca change - which is fast becoming my cliche) and my adding up skills are no longer able to approximate the hours I spend in the office. I arrived back home at 11pm on Friday night and dived (dove?? Na) into bed for a few hours before jumping back up and heading back to work. My arrival home was at 7pm the same day (on a Saturday....) and I was only saved from a pre-emptive divorce due to the DVD and Chinese takeaway I wisely acquired on my way home.

I have much to mention, but time is proving restrictive. Have I mentioned the hotel Carole and I will stay during the two nights between the wedding and our flight to Dublin? It's the Park Inn, have a look at the link:- http://www.parkinn.co.uk/hotel-aberdeen

I know what you're thinking. "Is that a popular city centre hostelry which perchance serves beverages of the alcoholic variety only yards from their hotel's front door?"

Yeah it is :)

Finally, enjoy the video below. I at last managed to catch Luca dancing, although as you'll notice he is a little reticent to the idea of being filmed. My favourite bit is toward the end where he shakes his chubby cheeks to the beat.

**Useless fact of the day - If you're dancing, you're probably doing it to some of your favorite tunes, which not only keeps your body moving, but your brain as well. A study in the Heart & Lung journal showed that people who listened to music while they exercised showed better "verbal fluency," as listening to music "may stimulate and increase cognitive arousal while helping to organize cognitive output."**

Can you tell that I'm bored?

2010-10-09T14:58:00.001-07:00

I'm paying for my lack of social interaction today. Carole's hen night is this evening, which was preceded by a lengthy hair and make-up appointment in town. This has resulted in my being left with toddler sitting responsibilities. No bad thing, but lordy have I misjudged the length of the day.

Being the highly unsociable and borderline surly individual you know and (cough) love, I often revel in situations where I'm left in my own company (contemplative thinking, working late in the office, etc) but on this occasion I've made rather a misjudgement.

Although Luca demands constant attention (to say the least) being as young as he presently is does limit conversation somewhat, as does his attention span. For example, earlier today Luca heard a word on the radio that was new to him - mystery. "What does mystery mean Dad?" he enquired. "Well, son" I began, impressed with the boys eagerness to learn along with the opportunity to demonstrate one of my few (very few) strengths "The easiest way for me to explain it to you would involve....."

At this point he pounced onto my knee, grabbed the sides of my head with both hands and proclaimed "Daddy - you've got bogeys in your nose!"

Coming back to the main point, that being one of the difference between loneliness and isolation. With Carole not being present all day, I decided to take Luca out with me to run varying errands (shopping, post office, picking up dog food, etc) rather than do anything of a more social nature (such as football, visiting, etc). It seemed the logical choice at the time, but following Luca's surprisingly early departure to bed at 6.40pm ("I tired Daddy, carry me to bed") I've been left with the realisation that other than the odd "thanks" or "bye" I haven't actually conversed with an adult since yesterday.

Which leads to to my decision to write a blog tonight. As you'll by now have guessed, my reasons for writing aren't as altruistic as usual. Indeed, tonight's blog is merely an opportunity to talk to myself without having to actually speak out loud, therefore reminding myself of the precariousness of sanity.

I'm assuming I'm not alone with these thoughts? Oh God, what if I am? What if no-one else talks out loud to themselves on occasion, and then worries about it? OK, new poll - look to the right of the page and vote post haste!

Before this entry becomes too self indulgent (although I think we "jumped that shark" about two years ago) I'll revert back to it's basic intention - inform you of the vagaries of our family life. Carole first, who interestingly becomes ever more affectionate and gooey eyed as the wedding date approaches. I think part of this is due her relaxing as most arrangements have finally been completed, but extraordinarily I think she's seriously looking forward to being married too. Perhaps I should work a little less and be a little nicer in order to live up to her hopes.

And Luca, what's going on with him? No overt changes I can think of, although his grammar and creative thinking continue to expand. We've been able to reason with him for quite some time now, but lately he's been thinking more, and offers a variety of alternative solutions to problems.

Or "argues more" to put it more simply.

He's also become very affectionate too, and has taken to holding my hand almost permanently when he's around me. Indeed, he even grabbed it yesterday morning at the breakfast table and proceeded to eat his cereal with one hand and hold my hand with the other. Cute. Conversely however, over the last couple of months he's stopped giving me a kiss goodnight. I still get a cuddle "but no kiss". This is part of his growing up I suspect, and one of many that shows his rapid progress from baby to boy. Gratifying to see from so many angles, but sad to lose my baby at the same time.

And me? I'm fine, slight levels of madness aside. Still stupidly working 60-70 hour weeks and eating a diet so bad my doctor would have an aneurysm at the sheer thought, but these aside I'm good.

And I tonight watched what will surely be film of the year in all the end-of-year polls. "Kick Ass". If you haven't seen it rent it now. If you haven't heard of it Google it. And if you keep an open mind you'll love it.

Unless excessive usage of the "C" word is overly off putting.

Tomorrow brings Carole's predicted hangover, so Luca and I will bail out to find refuge and a television to watch Partick Thistle play in Scotland's first cup semi final of the season. Exciting stuff, considering our general ineptitude and malaise, so if you're having a lazy Sunday afternoon then exercise your remote control finger and search your freeview box for the BBC Alba channel at around 3pm

Yes, of course they are going to lose. Now remember to vote and (hopefully) allay my mental health fears.

**Useless fact of the day - BBC Alba's viewing figures per month are around 250000. Total**

Difficult conversations with a toddler

2010-10-04T12:27:00.000-07:00

During his waking hours, it's immeasurably difficult to go online without Luca's bat-like ears hearing the click and whirr of a computer. Even if he's on a different floor that familiar high pitched voice will call out "Daddy, are you playing on the computer?". His question is almost incidental, as whether you reply to the affirmative or negative (ie - lie) those little feet will come stomping up the stairs.

Although it's frequently a pleasure to have his company at such times - he just likes to sit on your knee and watch - other times can be more problematic. Such as this weekend. We were trawling through the photo's on his Granda's blog ("That's Granny! That's Granda! That's Granda again!" "Look at the holes on Granda's legs!") until we happened upon an image posted on 17th August, that of a whole roasted pig, head and all.

Suddenly a deep frown crossed his face. "What are they doing to that piggy?" he cried, "The piggy has an owey". I paused briefly, contemplating whether the truth or a white lie would be needed. I chose the truth. "The pig has been on a barbecue" I stated, "So the people can eat their lunch." Cue a confused glare. "You don't eat pigs!" he roared, "Piggy's are our friends"

This conversation continued a while longer, until I was sure he understood. However, I'm unsure of my decision. Did I convey this information to him too early? Should I have waited until he was older? Please vote in today's poll on the right hand side of the page.

Luca's had a busy weekend, and slightly unusually has spent the majority with his Mummy. While I've been snoozing, he and his Mum have been running around together. They particularly enjoyed their trip to the cinema yesterday to watch "Toy Story 3" in 3D. Apparently he spent the movie swiping his hands in front of his face, as the 3D effects danced around the forefront of his vision.

That's not to say he and his Dad have been completely inactive however. We went to the Inverurie Loco's V Deveronvale cup match on Saturday afternoon. The result? A resounding 5 - 0 duffing for our local side. Luca clearly has been inflicted with the same unfortunate luck/curse suffered by preceding generations of football supporting Stewart's. Here he is at the game, having quietly crept under the barrier on his way to invading the pitch after the fourth goal went in.

On Sunday morning - with his Mother hill climbing - he was forced to join me at the office for a brief spell. Not being of great help with import commodity codes, I sat him in the closest canteen in front of CBeebies on the TV. Yes, I did ask him to smile at the camera. But television holds a greater appeal than his father.

We did hit a first at the office though. "I need a wee wee" he cried, rather predictably after his 4th glass of orange juice. With the unsurprising lack of a potty at my workplace, he happily used the main toilet. Nothing odd about that. Except his decision to have a pee standing up! As shocked as I was by his decision I was delighted, although he did have to strain on his tip toes to get his "little man" over the rim of the toilet bowl. "Aim it Daddy" he squealed, as long squirty flows of urine decorated the previously pristine interior of the bathroom.

In non-Luca related news, I achieved what I'd previous considered unachievable on Saturday evening - I convinced Carole to watch a subtitled foreign language film! As you know, Carole is rather fond of big budget, blockbuster, predominantly horror movies, and with this independent cinema holds little appeal for her. However,she sat entranced through French film "La Horde", enjoying every minute.

Of course, it was a French film about killer zombies, but every giant leap starts with a little step. And of course I'm not particularly averse to any film featuring levels of grisly nastiness either......

**Useless fact of the day - Former Leicester City and Millwall goalie Kasey Keller used to be the proud owner of a gas-powered car that was unable to reverse**

Alive. It's alive! IT'S ALIVE!

2010-09-30T13:10:00.000-07:00

That right arm - famous for pulling Dad's nose and stealing the food from my plate given any opportunity - was relieved of it's temporary sling prison on Tuesday, as the doctors concurred that the collarbone break was now healed

Apparently a little bump remains in the bone (though I can't locate it), but due to his age that will absorb, leaving no trace.

I think his Granny, unnecessarily feeling guilty for the toddlers fall, was most delighted by this prognosis. "Give Granny a cuddle using both arms" I instructed Luca once the doctor was satisfied. I don't think I've seen Mum smile so hard as he wrapped both arms tightly round her.

Amusingly he now needs constant reminders to relax his arm. Weeks of having his arm constrained in a single position has led him to unconsciously hold it in an "L" shape in front of his chest for periods. He gets a little embarrassed by his forgetfulness, and during a visit to the supermarket later that same day sternly told me that "I like it like this"

There's little else of note to report I'm afraid. Unless you're interested in how I fared in my footballing comeback following a two week absence due to a minor foot injury? No? Fair enough

**Useless fact of the day - Carole passed her recent IT exam following a 3-4 day course with a 78% score despite having thought she'd failed**

You have rekindled my faith in the human race. It's not nicked, is it?

2010-09-27T13:56:00.000-07:00

My metamorphosis into Aberdeenshire's own Delboy Trotter was made complete on Sunday, as I staggered out of bed at 5.30am and drove through deserted dawn streets toward Thainstone Market. My car, overflowing with an unimaginable amount of worthless cr*p, arrived at destination perfectly on time, at the advised hour of 6am. Where I positioned my motor in the queue alongside similarly lifeless souls in their work vans and saturated Renault Clio's. And waited.

And waited.

And waited. A full hour later the gates were finally and suddenly opened and we haphazardly filed in one by one, desperately wiping the condensation off the inside of our windscreens as we blindly drove, open flasks of coffee tipping everywhere as we did. We were shown to our allocated spots, from where we............guess what? Waited a little bit more.

A further hour passed before the market officially opened, and only then did the strict market rules allow our boots to be opened and cheap foldaway tables laid out (un)resplendently. A scene akin to dropping a bag of chips at the seaside ensued, where the seagull-esque punters descended on our vehicles without mercy. Desperately keeping this previously unseen horde at bay while we unpacked was easily the days most stressful job.

It was interesting to see which items markedly enticed the buyers. My DVD collection and books remained largely, and surprisingly, untouched throughout. Most peculiarly however my biggest seller, without question, was my music collection. I've long known my music taste is of an "acquired" nature (obscure indie label bands primarily) so I fully expected to finish the day with much of it still in my possession. As so often, how wrong I was.

Word quickly got around that a trader (guess who?) was here with "great stuff" (the words of innumerable punters who turned up breathless, eagerly sifting through my CD collection) and my long built up collection was rapidly decimated by lines of ageing indie kids. Perversely, the more obscure a band was, the more excited many of these buyers got. One almost literally salivated as I described in detail the sound and genre of "The Concretes" first album.

At least I now know there are people in the world significantly sadder than myself.

Carole and Luca turned up mid-morning to visit, and allow me a brief break to stretch my legs. Luca particularly enjoyed his job as the banker, and eagerly popped the proceeds of each sale into the tin. His attention span ran short, however, by an appetite that would put Godzilla to shame. He sat in the boot of my car and munched away throughout. Banana? Gone. Crisps? Gone. Biscuits? Gone. Chocolate bar? Gone. Our food stock ran drier than a hot Saharan summers day, so Luca and his stomach (we classify them as two separate entities now) was taken home again by his Mum to further devour the contents of our cupboards and fridge. Here's the two of them (or three counting the toddlers tummy) before they departed.

I eventually arrived home mid-afternoon, where a wife-to-be was present and waiting with my much needed late lunch, and a son who was waiting to help me eat it.

**Useless fact of the day - Each year 1.5 billion pounds are spent at Car Boot Sales in the UK. One million people visit Car Boot Sales every weekend**

Bad backs of the world unite

2010-09-25T10:09:00.000-07:00

A lazy weekend is being perdured, with my buttocks having rarely left the agonisingly uncomfortable confines of our bedroom carpet

Why? Because I've spent much of the day in front of my PC, enduring the painfully slow process of burning my entire CD collection to my hard drive in preparation of their forthcoming sale. Tomorrow, at the point where dusk turns to dawn I'll roll out of bed and pour my aching and unwilling figure into the front seat of my car and drive the 3 miles from our house to the weekly car boot sale at Thainstone Market (http://www.goanm.co.uk/thainstonecentre/sundaymarket/index.html)

Again, you may ask the question why (or perhaps not, I'd guess the arch tediousness of this blog has lost most of you so far). Don't I have a job that brings in enough pennies to feed and cloth my family? Well, yes (indeed I've just had a well timed promotion with commensurate pay rise) but as the wedding approaches - 35 days, yikes - the bills are beginning to drop through our letterbox with increasing regularity. I don't expect a car boot sale to contribute too much, but as they say in Asda - every little helps

Despite my earlier comments, it's actually been quite interesting sifting through our loft and cupboards, finding items of monetary value, emotional value and (predominantly unfortunately) no value. See the picture below for what is presently strewn beside me:-

And this is but a small percentage of what I'll be taking with me - much of our upstairs hallway is filled with junk I've dragged out.

It's been quite a nostalgic process as I dig through the rubble. You remember where you lived when you bought that book, or the places you went around the time of buying that CD. Of course, however, you only remember the good things from those times. It's interesting how time filters the bad memories from your mind and leaves only those of a more pleasant variety.

Liz left us just a few days ago, after her most recent week long visit. For a variety of reasons both Luca and Carole enjoyed her visit even more than normal, with both rather quiet and subdued following her departure. Carole in particular loved having her around, for all the help with wedding preparations. Conversely this is without mention of the simple fact she doesn't see her Mum enough, and time is always finite.

Luca has been in good spirits of late, with his broken collarbone and sling barely slowing him down. He still throws himself at his Dad like a guided missile, and with this my face has been contorted permanently into the following expression:-

Wednesday, with his final hospital appointment and accompanying x-ray and (expected) doctor's all clear can't come soon enough.

**Useless fact of the day - In 1998, the latest year for which such information is available, among persons over 65 years of age, 4,655 white men and 132 African-American males committed suicide. By contrast, 902 white women and 20 African-American women committed suicide that year**

Who's that?

2010-09-12T12:49:00.001-07:00

This is Carole. Voluntarily posing for a picture. Of course, there are conditions attached - namely her simple desire to show off part of the apparel of her hen night costume. Fangs to follow....

This has been the first blog in many a month not to begin with mention of Luca. And of course I'll revert to norm with the pictures below, the first demonstrating Luca's complete disregard for the healing process of his broken bone - I'd asked him to pose and smile, so he took off instead, his sling (and hips - he is dramatic) sashaying in his wake.

Our initial intention had been to watch the local amateur football team play football (perversely Luca hates football on TV, yet loves watching the game live and in person) but the game had ended just before our arrival. In the light of this I, hesitantly, agreed to take him instead to the swing park. And yes, that's my toddler son with a broken collarbone climbing up the slippy part of a slide one handed. Eeek!

"It's not easy with one hand" he'd said before his ascent. This statement has become his mantra since the break. Putting on shoes, eating cereal, even turning the TV channel - the cry of "Help me, it's not easy with one hand" will emanate from a toddler who is clearly milking the situation for all it's worth.

"Catch me at the bottom Dad - it's not easy to stop with one hand"

The final picture below was the last taken before I dropped and destroyed my camera. Judging by the quality, perhaps the God's of photography were trying to tell me something.

Finally, please cast your vote on the poll above. Before our departure to our Irish honeymoon Carole and I will be spending two nights in a hotel in Aberdeen. I've narrowed it down to two choices. Let me know your vote, and I promise not to entirely disregard your opinion. Probably.

**Useless fact of the day - The owner of Kodak (George Eastman) named his company after the sound the he thought the camera shutter made**

Luca's first broken bone

2010-08-31T14:33:00.001-07:00

This picture was taken only an hour ago, immediately after leaving Aberdeen Children's A&E. Luca had a fall outside nursery this afternoon after his Granny Jo picked him up, and although it initially appeared the damage was little more than superficial, over time it transpired there was more wrong than originally suspected.

A trip to the hospital followed, where an x-ray revealed a broken collarbone. It'll repair itself over the next few weeks, and he'll wear a sling during much of that time to aid the healing process.

He's home now however, and went to bed laughing and is clearly in little discomfort. I'll report more tomorrow, and will take a video of him proudly displaying his sling.

And yeah, my heart is still in my mouth!

**Useless fact of the day - The collarbone is the bone most often broken (fractured) in childhood. Children are prone to breaking collarbones because they don't completely harden until adulthood.

The clavicles, or collarbones, are the long bones that help connect the shoulder girdle to the rib cage. A break can happen when a toddler falls on her shoulder or on an outstretched hand**

Just photo's and video's tonight

2010-08-29T11:18:00.000-07:00

Another weekend has passed with Luca having again worn down my limited reserves. With this as my excuse to type little of note, please scroll down to enjoy/endure Luca's recent misadventures:-

My favourite one to inaugurate proceedings - Luca pulling faces on the corner of the most infamous street in Aberdeen's red light district! Fear not, as the time was barely 10am it was unlikely we'd come across any inappropriate activities. We'd taken the train into Aberdeen to visit the cinema and the reasonably significant distance between the train station and beach side cinema (surprisingly uncovered by public transport) necessitated us taking the shortest route. Considering the surprisingly hot weather endured Luca's puffed utterance of "I'm too small for this", clearly angling for me to offer a carry (an offer which wasn't forthcoming), wasn't entirely unexpected.

We had a few shops to visit after the movie ("Planet 51" - he loved it, I thought it was terrible) and of course those big brown eyes pleaded for me to supply a shiny pound coin every time we stumbled across a child ride. Being a soft touch, I often accede.

We took the bus home, but only just caught it. We'd ran the last hundred yards to the bus station, with the wee man showing surprising acceleration. The bus doors were closing as we arrived, but the driver kindly waited and allowed us to step (or in Luca's case vault) on. This was one instance (of many) where the presence of Luca was a boon. Would the driver have stopped and waited had I, a 6ft+ shaven headed lanky thug, been the only one running? Unlikely.

As you can see, the excessive walking around Aberdeen (we covered a few miles) had exhausted the boy, and he fell asleep a few times on the journey home. Perhaps we'll stick to the car until his stubby legs are a little longer!

He's rarely still for long however.

This one was taken today, as he bravely pushed his Dad to the side and fought off the Great White Shark with his bare hands. Either that, or he was pulling a comically poor scared face as we passed an odd shopping centre mural.

The above video is so dark to upload it was almost an act of pure folly - you can't see anything besides the final three seconds. Look carefully however. This was Luca dancing to the music during the end credits of "Planet 51". Trust me on this, he really works his derriere as he jives.

The final video was taken last week. Enjoy the bit right at the end where he plays keepy-up using only his head before volleying an overhead kick into the top corner.

**Useless fact of the day - Commonly used words to describe this blogs author are deceiver, deluder, fabler, falsifier, fibber, prevaricator and liar. Amongst others**

Where does he hear these things?

2010-08-22T10:26:00.001-07:00

It's been a week or memorable quotes from the little man. From the impudence of this conversation with his Mummy:-

"Would you like a bite of my chocolate bar Mummy?"

"Oh, yes please Luca"

"Huh, I might have known...."

To the unintended cheekiness of another conversation with his Mother earlier today:-

"Mummy, come down the stairs on your bottom"

"No Luca, I'd rather walk"

"OK sweetheart!"

He sounded like a proper cockney geezer when he called him Mum sweetheart.

I'm feeling a little better today after my predicted hangover of yesterday. Luca stayed over with his Granny and Granda on Friday night, allowing Carole and I our (separate) nights out. Carole's was a slightly more sedate late lunch so she was home by early evening, whereas my night was the expectant pub crawl. It's rare I allow myself the opportunity to drink much these days, in fear of starting smoking again - my smoking was always interrelated with my drinking previously.

With this in mind, and in preparation for a potential banana skin, I've discovered the existence of herbal cigarettes. Containing no tobacco, nicotine (nor indeed any of the addictive substances found within a normal cigarette) I'm intending to buy a pack for our honeymoon. It's Ireland, there is copious amounts of drink around therefore I'm a little nervous. If I weaken after a Guinness or two too many then I'll stick one of those in my mouth. It's now been two years since I quit but it's still difficult.

On that subject, when am I going to put weight on? Every other ex-smoker I've known appears to have put on an average of a couple of stone after quitting. Curious.

Despite my lack of bulk, at least my fitness continues to improve. One of the "characters" I play football with (a bizarre chap who was accepted onto TV's "Come Dine With Me" and is presently trying to appear on "Coach Trip") wrote out an analysis of all of our footballing characteristics. I was nicknamed "The Slave" due to my unselfish running and apparently endless stamina. At least I hope that was the reason......

Saturday morning, post drinking binge, began exceptionally early with a call from work. Well, with my luck could I expect anything else? After grumpily battering my keyboard and drinking cheap coffee in my office for a couple of hours I drove out to pick Luca up from his Granny's. "I'm staying here" he announced upon my arrival, "I think I'll live at Granny Jo's house now"

Once we'd driven back to Inverurie - protestations having been ignored - he and I took a bus into Aberdeen. I'd used Carole's car earlier that day as I'd left my own in Aberdeen the previous evening, but now needed to reclaim my own motor. Luca demanded to accompany me, not out of affection or companionship, but more due to his curious love of buses. Here he is below.

Once in Aberdeen I decided we should do something to make the trip worthwhile. Luca quickly found his preferred form of entertainment:-

Before the two of us toddled to the cinema to watch "Toy Story 3". It was brilliant, I'm not sure who enjoyed it more!

In the evening Carole and I watched our traditional Saturday night movie (along with a diet busting takeaway to relieve our aching hangovers). This week it was the remake of "Clash Of The Titans". Do you remember how shonky and crappy the original was? Yep, this was the same, but simply with wonky computer graphic monsters rather than wonky plasticine ones. They didn't greatly greatly enhance proceedings.

Today (Sunday) has been a little more wasteful, with yet another morning call out to the office. Once home I took Luca shopping for some goalposts for the back garden. Here he is in full goalkeeper mode:-

Perhaps I should have purchased smaller goals. He struggled to reach the shots I was blasting into the top corner......

**Useless fact of the day - Bulgarian International and former Reading 'keeper Borislav Mihaylov gained notoriety during the 1994 World Cup Finals in the United States when he suddenly appeared with a full head of hair having been completely bald on top only weeks before. It turned out that he had decided to wear a wig to help promote his toupee company back home (During the Quarter Final game against Mexico, the poor man had to adjust his hairpiece under the protection of a towel after the blazing sun had caused him to sweat just a little too profusely…)**

Far's the photy's like?

2010-08-15T14:13:00.000-07:00

Monsieur Stewart, ou sont les photographies?

Yes, there's not a single picture of Luca on today's blog. So for those of you who have logged in hoping to see the toddler with the 70's hairdo, you may as well log back out and I'll see you all again next time.

For those of you still reading (most likely just me, narcissistically searching my own blog for the innumerable typo's that frequently adorn it) I'll continue with a simple update of events since Thursday. Starting with Friday.......

........where Luca was again my evening dinner companion, this time (like most) at Morrison's supermarket cafe. Due to work I haven't seen much of him over the past few weeks, so when Carole reminded me of her girls night out, I eagerly agreed and readily, albeit predictably reticently, dropped everything at 5.30pm and sped out the door of my office.

He wasn't a cheap date however. Huge plate of fish fingers, beans and chips? Wolfed in seconds ("Don't you eat my chips Daddy!"). Grapes? Straight down the throat ("None for you Daddy"). Chocolate bar? He couldn't chew it quickly enough before swallowing. He laughed when I asked if I could have a bite.

His bloated stomach predictably led to a brisk delivery to bed once we arrived home, allowing me to cook and eat my own dinner for around 8pm. I'm certain to most that sounds an absurdly late time, but life with Luca has trained my stomach in such a way that a normal dinner time of 6pm perversely is an uncomfortable experience now.

Of course my pork steak was scandalously underdone, and I somehow managed to overcook my 3 minute microwave chips too - how is that even possible? At least my evening entertainment proved decent, my borrowed copy of "Avatar" whiled away the hours.

On Saturday Carole - incumbent with a raging hangover - drove into Aberdeen with Annie to buy her wedding ring. Luca stayed at home with me, and we re-watched "Avatar" together before making our own journey to Aberdeen, where I dropped an awkward and antagonistic little b***er off with his Mum and Annie before departing toward Pittodrie to watch Aberdeen's opening game of the season.

Luca's behaviour has invariably been admirable of late, but the little tantrum sessions tend to appear out of nowhere. The raging scream is my favourite part, as his eyes screw up, his nose raises to the sky and his mouth opens so wide you can see what he had for breakfast. I'm at present a little unsure how best to handle these episodes (Tell him off? Ignore him? Smack him?) as each incident has been best resolved utilising different methods. The words "deep breath" are surely any parents mantra.

Saturday got better from there however. Not only had I rid myself of a demon-esque toddler, I was also rewarded with that rarest of things - an Aberdeen victory, in glorious sunshine, and a margin of 4-0 to boot. Miracles do happen.

My post match pint of Guinness Extra Cold also reaffirmed it as my favourite drink. Apologies to Dad and Mike for being such a philistine but my taste buds still prefer an ice cold pint to the warmer ales of their preference.

Our choice of Saturday night movie this week - intended to ease both my sunburn and her hangover - was "Case 39", a nonsensical flick starring Renee Zellweger (you know her, she's the actress who looks really attractive from middle distance but a bit weird and scary close up) about a little girl who's actually a demon. Despite the absurdity, it still drew many parallels with the chubster snoring in the room above.

Today has been a rare day at home. Necessity - and sunshine - pulled us toward the abundance of jobs needing done around the gardens (I love my use of that word in the plural, it makes us sound as if our abode is a stately home). Luca and I even managed a game of football too. What is most notable is his natural instinct always to kick with his left. He's undoubtedly a leftie, just like his Mum.

In the physical rather than political sense of course......

To finish, for any non-Sot's, here's a picture below of the Royal Stewart tartan that will be adorned at the wedding:-

**Useless fact of the day - 110 million people worldwide speak French as their first language**

Luca in a kilt..........really this time

2010-08-12T13:39:00.000-07:00

Today brought about a peculiarly early finish for myself, in preparation for my booked appointment at McCall's kilt hire in Aberdeen. Ross, my best man, kindly collected Luca from nursery while Donald, my usher, met us there. In fact it was a nice surprise to see Luisa (his wife) had come through too, as had Harry, their son and my Godson. Here they are below:-

Still barely a hair on his head despite his Dad's decent (albeit greying) thatch, yet Luca was born with an unruly mop of curls despite his own Dad's lack thereof. How exactly does Genetics work again?

Speaking of Godsons, I'm still waiting for Cade's measurements, along with his brother and Dad for their kilts. Lucy, you need to get measuring and email me - I'll get them booked.

And Mike - it's still not too late for you to change your mind. I'm more than willing to book a kilt and sporran for you too!

Luca of course will cause us consternation come October 30th. He and Ross arrived a few minutes late tonight, predictably timing their arrival perfectly to see me walk out the changing room in my kilt. "Daddy!" yelped Luca, "What's that, why you wearing a skirt?"

He ran over and felt the tartan material between his fingers, glancing furtively up with suspicion in his eyes. Eventually he spoke again. "Take it off"

His refusal to try on a kilt was predictable from this point, and despite all our assurances he remained extremely sceptical. Eventually, however, it was his turn. Desperation set in as I pleaded with him. "Luca, what do you want? If you try on a kilt without making a fuss I'll buy you something". His eyes arched upward. "Chocolate"

Promises made, he and I retired to the changing room to put the kilt on. "Just for a minute Daddy, OK?". His embarrassment and awkwardness ran deep as we opened the curtains to present him to his waiting audience. He literally sprang into my arms, and buried his head into my chest. Here he is below:-

The promise of chocolate brought him down long enough for the checks on length (etc) to be made, before he hurtled toward the changing room and swished the curtain shut behind him. Gratifyingly the reintroduction of trousers brought him out his shell, and he proceeded to play with his Uncle Ross and Harry. Here they are below, with a box of toys cleverly supplied by the hire shop:-

It was nice to hear how well behaved he'd been with his Uncle Ross before we met up. He doesn't spend much time alone with his Uncle, so it's nice to see the bond there. However, his daily allocation of good behaviour had clearly been used up by the time we left, and despite Donald's cajoling he was insistent he wanted to go home rather than allow us to go for a meal at Pizza Hut together.

Of course we did still make a detour on the way back to the car. He wasn't going to allow me to forget my promise of a chocolate purchase, and his face adorned a smug, self satisfied smirk as he munched on his "Ben 10" chocolate lollipop as we drove toward home.

**Useless fact of the day - Each handmade kilt takes a total of about 15 hours solid work to complete**

Luca in a kilt......

2010-08-11T10:22:00.000-07:00

......is a picture you'll see on this blog in the next few days. Apologies for raising your hopes in advance. Tomorrow Luca, Ross, Donald and I have our kilt fitting at McCalls (http://www.mccalls.co.uk/), while Dad will follow suit on a later date. While there we'll book Scott, Cade and Braedens kilts too (with final fittings when they arrive in Scotland in October)

The most pressing matter is whether Luca will accept being dressed in a skirt? We have enough "fun" with him in the morning deciding upon which t-shirt to wear ("I want the Ben 10 t-shirt, I don't like the monkey one any more. Or that one. Or that one. Put it back") without attempting to wrap a heavy woolen kilt around his waist.

"It's very drafty" is what I fully expect him to say if we get it on him......

Following my brief daliance with the idea of wearing morning suits rather than kilts, as you can see I'm now fully (albeit reluctantly) committed to wearing this outdated outfit of an age long since passed. With this, I now need to address how best to put weight on before the wedding in order to avoid the matchstick leg look. Unfortunately, I'm a little unsure as to how to go about this.

"Eat more pies" is the obvious solution, but not one that seems to work with me (I eat many pies). What foods are best for adding weight, in particular taking into account the limited exercise I presently undertake (one game of football and one gym session per week, allied to dog walking)? This question is aimed mainly at the medically trained readers out there - Lucy, Kelly and Liz. See the new poll attached to today's blog and vote to help me stride confidently out in a kilt with legs appearing a little less similar to a hairy spiders than they presently are.

**Useless fact of the day - The spider's leg is obviously very hairy. Almost all these hairs are sensory hairs (in fact they are more like bristles), and act as receptors that can detect touch and vibration**

Water....water....

2010-08-08T14:39:00.000-07:00

It's over. Possibly the most tumultuous working week of my life has ended. As the clock struck 10pm on Friday night my patience finally ended, and I switched off my PC and headed for home.

So what did I do on Saturday, my first day off in 13 days? Did I sleep until lunch and spend the rest of the day with my feet up in front of the TV? Nope, I jumped out of bed, straight into the car and began the 120 mile journey to Kirkcaldy to attend Partick Thistles opening league match of the season.

Initially the idea didn't seem too foolhardy. I met Colin in Stonehaven and we travelled down the road with the windows open, allowing the glorious weather to give us that cliched "white van man one arm tan" look. We stopped in Perth (surely the most picturesque town in Scotland) for a bite and a pint in an almost postcard perfect old style pub. Even Kirkcaldy was unnaturally pleasant, and we took our seats attired only in t-shirts - an exceptionally rare occurrence at any open air event in Scotland, no matter the time of the year.

It was only now things began to fall apart. Our opponents (Raith Rovers - the team Gordon Brown supports) took the lead early on, taking advantage of our goalkeepers decision simply to fall down rather than actually dive toward the ball. Further goals followed, each more farcical than the last. See picture below for a photo I took during one of the rare moments when the ball wasn't flying into our net. It finished 4 - 0.

Surely I took it easy on Sunday then? Nope. Carole left early to head up the hills with pals and mutts, leaving me with the tiny terror. What to do? Should we stay home and play with his toys together on the living room carpet (honestly, those Transformers toys are Luca's, not mine....) or head out for a "skenk" (local colloquialism). A skenk it was, so we drove into Aberdeen and started the morning at the cinema's 10am Kids Club. Today it was "How To Train Your Dragon", and again I was pleased with how consistently excellent so many big budget cartoon movies of the past few years have been. This one was no exception, and the toddler and I sat enthralled throughout.

Following this we took a stroll around Aberdeen, mainly in an attempt to use up some of the gift vouchers I received for my birthday. However, I often forget how little Luca's legs are, and eventually he grabbed the bottom of my t-shirt and said "Phew, this is not easy for Luca!". An adjournment for a chocolate ice cram was called for, which added remarkable (albeit predictable) vim to his energy levels.

We grabbed some lunch shortly after, and had a picnic in a park by the beach. However, foolishly I allowed Luca to choose our spot, and we sat within 30 yards of a busy road, as seen in the pictures below. Egg sandwiches and exhaust fumes, mmmm yum.

Swimming was next, so due to our current proximity I took him to Aberdeen's (in)famous Beach Leisure Pool. This particular pool is awash (no pun intended) with a huge variety of water slides. How many did Luca go on? That's right, not one....

He did love it there to be fair, and his squeals as he rode on my back while the pools wave current machine shot us in circles around an island were likely heard by his Aunt Kelly in Australia.

It was great to spend time with the wee man again, and proved to be a real spirit lifter after the trials of last week. On our return home Carole mentioned how difficult and challenging he's been this past week or so while I've been absent. It was surmised the likely reason was that he was playing up because he missed his Dad. A nice feeling if true, and much his behaviour today adds credence to the theory. Particularly, peculiarly in the cinema he kept turning round (he always sits on my knee) and cuddling me without saying a word - perhaps this was his way of demonstrating the fact?

As a final aside, I cut my toenails tonight. Fascinating eh? I'm leading to a point, bear with me. Due to the crazy hours I've worked of late, I've paid little, if any attention to my appearance. Indeed, Saturday was the first time in a week I'd even had a shave. So it should have been little surprise to realise this evening that I had a toenail missing! During football on Tuesday night I made a strong block tackle that hurt, but I didn't pay too much heed to it. However, it transpires it was tougher than thought, and my toe is badly bruised as well as "sans" toenail. I intend in future never to be so busy that I don't notice the absence of an entire toenail until five days later......

**Useless fact of the day - Fingernails take 3 to 6 months to regrow completely, while toenails require around 12 to 18 months to grow back fully**

What's my name again?

2010-08-05T11:19:00.000-07:00

Happy (slightly) belated birthday to Cade, although the realisation that he's now hit double figures is almost unfathomable - where has the time gone? I hope our card and gift have arrived, and that his Mum hasn't confiscated the present for it's bad taste.....

What a week it's been. Working both Saturday and Sunday (until 8pm and 6pm respectively), followed by an almost permanent residence in the office since. My mobile continued to vibrate like an irritable rattlesnake during even the one hour I took on Tuesday night to play football. Depressing. Last night I left around 9pm, and tonight? It's 7.30pm now, so it's anyones guess.

Of course it go's without saying my exit time would be accelerated somewhat had I not begun this blog. As such I'll swiftly wrap this up.

What's the only thing you read this for? Oh yes, Luca. I'm sorry, I have no stories to tell as I haven't really seen my son in almost a week. My only real experience is from this morning, when he became so aggravated after an argument with his Mum that he stormed up to his bedroom and pulled his trousers, socks and pants off. I found him sitting on his bed wearing only his t-shirt. "Why did you do that?" I queried. "I don't know" screamed an exasperated, but secretly moderately amused child.

**Useless fact of the day - Britons are among the hardest working people in Europe (42.4 hours per week), with only Romanians putting in longer hours. Australians work an average of 36, and Americans 40.9. The Chinese, of course, are the worlds hardest working**

Luca unwell

2010-07-28T13:35:00.000-07:00

Luca woke with a chirpy grin this morning. "Lets get dressed and have breakfast" he cried, pulling his socks on before dragging his Dad downstairs to the kitchen. "I pour the cereal" he insisted while filling his bowl with Rice Krispies. The milk was due next but then......

Blleeeuurrgghhh

He vomited. This action even surprised him, and he burst into tears before throwing up a further five or six times. This eventually stopped, leaving a shocked and distraught toddler literally caked in the regurgitated contents of whatever he'd eaten the previous day. "Help me Daddy" he wept, not being able to comprehend what had happened. I pulled his clothes off and carried him through to the shower to wash. Luca hates showers, but on this occasion willingly welcomed the streams of warm water from above. I sat with him as we wiped the remnants off.

Obviously we had to keep him off nursery, so Carole took the morning shift while I returned at lunchtime to take over. He seemed absolutely fine, but it's clear something is amiss. He and I spent much of the afternoon on the sofa together - much out of character for the hyper wee man - watching TV and snoozing.

Well, he fell asleep under my arm a few times. I did drop off briefly, only for Luca to notice, climb on top of me and push his nose into mine until I awoke. A rather bizarre type of alarm clock for sure.

Anyway, he's in bed now with hopes of an improved day tomorrow. See the video below for Luca's explanation of his ailments.

**Useless fact of the day - 40% of all Guinness sales are in Africa**

Will the real Luca Stewart please stand up?

2010-07-25T10:41:00.000-07:00

July has been a long month for Luca, and the cracks are beginning to show. The itinerary was as follows:-

Week 1 - Grandma Liz up to stay

Week 2 - Visiting family in Lincolnshire

Week 3 - Cousin Ben up to stay

Week 4 - Visits from Great Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian

As good as it was for him (and us) the loss of routine, allied to his natural "show off" tendencies has resulted in his worst behaviour in.......I can't remember how long. Following a major earthquake, tremors continue to impact for some time time after. As his behaviour is proving comparable, it's doubly apt that he's kindred to a force of nature.

In preference to dwelling on his behaviour, I'll instead reminisce and revoke memories of some of the brighter moments he's produced this month. The two pictures above illustrate both his fascination with his walking, talking "Elmo" toy, and his fear. I caught these just as the toy waved its arms in the air, causing a panicking Luca to instinctively throw himself backward onto his bed.

And here he is playing Air Hockey with Cousin Ben. Despite Ben's best efforts to throw the game Luca still couldn't win, with his sloth like reflexes not boding well for a future sporting career.

His Great Uncle Brian proved an idiom of confusion, as Luca struggled to work out how best to deal with the most recently met member of his family. "The tears are coming" grumbled his Grandad as Luca's laughs and squeals grew ever more manic.

The blog will return to it's normal level of irreverence (and irrelevance....) over the coming days as life - and Luca - revert to their original flow. In the interim, Luca wishes you goodnight in the video below:-

**Useless fact of the day - Yemen has a population of 23,822,783. About 45% of the population live below poverty line and the unemployment rate hovers at 35%**

Aint no mountain high enough

2010-07-20T02:35:00.001-07:00

Just a shorty today (bit like oor Luca):-

"Carole, I'm cold, please take me home now"
Carole took Ben for a walk up Bennachie, cruelly neglecting to tell him that even in the height of summer that hillwaking in Scotland is QUITE COLD. Yes, that is a pair of shorts and t-shirt he's wearing.

Do teenage boys smile in photo's? It's a genetic thing

"Open your eyes Daddy, I promise not to smack your head. Again"

"Stop looking at my ice cream. I will kill you"

**Useless fact of the day - Americans consume the most ice cream in the world per capita, with Australians coming in second. In 1924, the average America ate eight pints a year. By 1997, the International Dairy Foods Association reported that the figure had jumped to 48 pints a year**

I'm back

2010-07-18T12:49:00.000-07:00

This feels a little "Catholic confessional", but:-

Please Father, forgive me for my sins. It has been two weeks since my last blog.

Has there been any reason for me to update of late however? Carole and Luca drove Liz home last Monday (always a pleasure to have her here incidentally), leaving me with little of note to report. Are you really that interested in whether I scored four goals at football on Tuesday (I did) or whether I ate healthily during my families absence? (I didn't)

But.......they're now back home, and after a last minute house tidy comparative to BP's recent oil spill clean-up I welcomed them back, along with our latest guest - Luca's big cousin Ben has joined us for the week following the end of his exams.

Luca, of course, reminded me why I'd missed him. I called Caroles mobile on Friday as they drove up the road, only for her to to be drowned out by a toddler gasping "Aaaah, that's my Daddy, that's my Daddy! I miss you Daddy". Enough to bring a lump to the throat of any semi-starved Dad (I told you, I really didn't eat well)

Following their arrival in Inverurie - and Luca's rapid ascent to bed and the land of nod - I "welcomed" Carole and Ben with a DVD to chill out in front of. It starred Hugh Grant and Sarah Jessica Parker and was called "Have You Met The Morgans?" We really wish we hadn't. Carole nominated it as possibly the worst film she'd ever seen, while Ben's summary was a little more succinct - he went out for a jog half way through!

Yesterday (Saturday) was much better. We drove into Aberdeen where we broke into pairs. Carole and Ben went in search of somewhere to obtain a third ear piercing for Ben (strewth, I hope he's told his Mum - this is a real Pandora's box moment) while Luca and I went to.....well, just cause chaos pretty much.

Later Carole dragged Ben out hill walking with the dogs, while Luca and I assembled the £8.99 barbecue we'd purchased earlier that day. Luca was of genuine help, and sat alongside me patiently throughout, supplying me with each part as required.

"Small black screw please Luca"

"Here you go Daddy"

"Thank you Luca. I need a screwdriver now"

"OK Daddy, here you go"

"No Luca, that's a pencil"

"Ooops, sorry Daddy"

The funniest part was on completion, when I told him what a great help he'd been. He became overwhelmed and threw his arms round my neck and snuggled in before triumphantly rising and bouncing away on his nearby space hopper. Here he is below with his creation:-

The barbecue went well. Ish. A couple of steaks were a little on the scorched side, but all was eaten and enjoyed. I think. I partook in around 9 or 10 Jack Daniels while cooking. I think it's a caveman thing. Me drink, me make fire, burn dead animals.

The remnants were devoured by fitness fiend Ben this morning (he's almost unrecognisable from when I last met him) before he and I visited my local gym. Following my attempt to rid our house of it's Jack Daniels content only 12 hours before I took it a little easy to begin with, but Ben cracked straight on with the loose weights, impressively bench pressing away. The joys of youth......

Following this, we returned home to collect Carole and Luca and drove down to the Highland Games in Stonehaven. Ben, of course, was a little perplexed by the curious spectacle of "tossing the caber" (not a double entendre), while Luca was most entranced by the Tug'O'War. "They getting very muddy" came the blindingly obvious statement from the tot as a dozen 17 stone+ men destroyed the turf and dug their heels half way to Australia.

More comment and pictures to follow tomorrow, time permitting.

**Useless fact of the day - The “Haggis Toss” is not a traditional Highland game. Indeed, tossing a haggis about is a criminal waste of food, so flying haggis at true Highland Games is right out**

Ummm....ouch

2010-07-04T09:30:00.000-07:00

Liz arrived on Friday. Comedy element is already present.

Here's Luca running carefree round Union Terrace Gardens on Saturday afternoon. As Jeremy Beadle used to ask (incidentally, is he still alive?) on "You've been Framed" just before every commercial break - "What happens next?"

Yes, Grandma Liz loses 3 teeth. I'd asked her to pose with a (worryingly) highly strung Grandson for what I intended to be a happy, smiling family picture on a beautiful sunny day. It instead turned into a scene of (unintentionally hilarious) horror. Luca, in his excitement, continued to bounce up and down as his Grandma held him, resulting in an echoing thud as his head landed a blow under her jaw of at least comparative impact to many of Mike Tyson's greatest hits. Could this photo have possibly been taken at a more inopportune moment?

I wasn't serious about Liz losing three teeth though.

It was actually just two.

Is it noticeable that I've neglected my camera responsibilities of late? The only other picture of note is the one featured above, and is more of a curio than anything of genuine relevance. It's a snap I took yesterday of the "Hand of God" church in Aberdeen. Which is part of a tenement style section of business units. In the cities fish market area. Still, at least if Jesus decided to use this church to repeat his trick of providing fish for the 5000, it'd incur a little less effort than his first attempt those 2000 years ago.

Much more to report - primarily that of Carole's impressive time of 27 minutes in today's 3 mile charity race - of which I'll detail later in the week.

Unless my aged fingers become too flimsy to continue these journals upon reaching my 35th birthday tomorrow.

**Useless fact of the day - Jeremy Beadle, a popular TV presenter who attained an MBE, died on 30th January 2008. He lived his life with Poland syndrome, a visible disability which manifested itself as a disproportionately small right hand**