Caught

A Saturday morning like any other. The slow roll out of bed, toast with jam and a liberal amount of televisual entertainment apparently created with the specific intention of insulting your intelligence. And Luca with his hands down his shorts.




I'm typing this while wrapped in a blanket. I'm currently feeling very sorry for myself after having contracted a rather unpleasant bug. Being a natural grump at the best of times it'd be natural to assume I'm presently an utter royal pain in the ass. Gratifyingly my family are overlooking this and caring for me in the ways they know best. Carole is keeping me warm and feeding me endless tablets and potions to make me comfortable and relieve the ailments. And Luca? He arrived home from school last night and immediately came upstairs to see me. "Here" he said, reaching into his coat pocket and producing four fruit sweeties. His last four fruit sweeties. "These will make you better". I smiled as he gave me a hug, and fell back to sleep again.

Do you think those self same sweets were waiting for me when I awoke this morning? Do you want the Hollywood-esque answer? Or the truth?

With Carole having entered us both into an upcoming 5K run, last Sunday I decided it may be beneficial to check my bodies capabilities in advance. Having not run outdoors for several years (with the exception of playing football) I took a jog downtown, accompanied by Yoda. It was pretty comfortable, but the dog was a little unimpressed by the experience. 400 yards in she decided to have a mid-jog poo (that was fun, retracing my steps to collect little poo droplets), before spending the remainder of the run dragging behind me, her mini legs scratching on the asphalt beneath.

I'll take Isis next time. It'll be interesting to find out if she's willing and able. Our old mutt has been having issues with her stomach of late for which we've had her back and forth to the vet, but she also has one other rather more untreatable ailment - she's nearly stone deaf. She's a poor old brute.

Also upcoming is Carole's "boot camp", now only a couple of months away. It's a week long fitness camp in a hotel in idyllic Perthshire countryside, where she'll spend her days running around like a demented rabbit before spending the evenings eating like one. A husk of a woman shall likely return.

Another upcoming financial event is also imminent, a couple of months following the boot camp. Due to an entirely unexpected bonus from my work we've repaid much of the remaining outstanding loan on my car. Consequently I'm on the lookout for a new appealing model. Luca has made several recommendations so far, each following a similar theme - if it's big, he likes it. However, as 5 year olds perennially aren't the most knowledgable group within society with regard to automotive expertise I'd be most grateful if you voted on today's poll.

**Useless fact of the day - Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia is the fear of long words**

Will this work?

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

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

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?

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

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

"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**