Today is my penultimate day at Asco. For those interested the company name stands for "Aberdeen Service Company", the middle word seemingly having been forgotten group-wide. But that's for my exit interview with our HR department tomorrow.
Depression-ensuing jobs aside, however, the sun shining through the window reminds me to always look forward. Or as Eric Idle once said "Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life"
De dum. De dum de dum de dum.
On this subject, one of the greatest benefits I get from running is the psychological rather than physical benefits (although the latter is appreciated of course). The ability to just run quietens your mind, and the action of running through streets, forests and hills separates you from society. You leave your phone at home, and in turn become inaccessible to everyone, even if it is only for a short period in relation to the length of an entire day.
Luca continues to enthral however. Granted, my patience for him when returning home at the end of a long day after 7pm at night is limited, but he does make me laugh more than anyone else. I do, however, have to stifle my mirth during the daily "butting of heads" between he and his Mum. They argue with one another before coming to me individually to "tell" on the other!
Honestly, they're so similar you could switch their brains with one another and no-one would know the difference.
As I type this Granny Jo will be collecting Luca from school. He does take such advantage of his Gran, who perversely seems to not mind. I'm waiting for the day she lays down the law with him. Those huge eyes of his will be opened so wide a gravitational field will form around them.
Tonight I'm forsaking the warmth of our fireside for a trip to Pittodrie (Aberdeen FC's stadium) and the likely arctic blast that will ensue. Temperature for this evening is forecast at 1 degree, and the wind from the neighbouring North Sea will "refresh" us too. And of course we'll lose. Why am I going again?
**Useless fact of the day - The largest number of babies born to a woman is 69. From 1725-1765, a Russian peasant woman gave birth to 16 sets of twins, seven sets of triplets, and four sets of quadruplets**
Tuesday, 26 February 2013
Monday, 25 February 2013
Photo's
Alas, again, I have no pictures to post. Luca has proven rather elusive in front of the lense over the past week, and his Mother? She'd give Usain Bolt a run for his money if I stood at the start line with my camera in hand.
We've had a relatively event-free weekend, with little to report. I ran another training 10K around Inverurie/Port Elphinstone/Thainstone again on Saturday morning after Luca's football training (no goals Grandad Mike), setting another personal best which was pleasing. However, my knee is worryingly becoming problematic again, and I'm going to have to nurse it through the next week until Sundays Nairn 10K. I may have to return to the gym to work on the machines again, lifting fixed weights to improve the knee muscles again.
Later on Saturday I picked up Luca's pal Ethan, who was staying overnight with us while his Mum had a night out. We've known Ethan since he was a tot, but he has a number of issues and requires separate classing, tutoring, speech training, etc which means certain parents do avoid getting involved outside school. This makes him sound extremely difficult, and he is at times (he's incredibly hyper and frequently extremely ill-behaved) but I often get the impression he needs more stimulation, activity and attention. Although a nightmare with other children at times, I seem to get a different child when it's just the two of us (for example, I had an hour to kill with him on Saturday while Carole and Luca finished up on the farm). He seems to respond very well when you put him in situations where you're forcing him to make a decision rather than just telling him what to do. A light goes on, and he'll think about things which in turn helps him understand consequences. He likes this responsibility too. I often get the impression childrens problems are over-exposed at times, which (although with the best of intentions) makes a child feel different, excluded and victimised.
My amateur psychology is over now, I promise.
Luca has been great however. We had a Father/Son day on Sunday, spending most of it out on foot, exploring and deciding what and where to go on whims. He's becoming whip-smart and has a real hunger for knowledge. I get uncomfortable when I don't know the answer to a question ("How long do squid live for Dad?") as I don't want to simply give him answers for the sake of answers.
He's still not very physical however. We had a cringeworthy moment yesterday when our football went through a fence forcing him to climb through to retrieve it. He's incredibly conscious of the dangers of falling which is a relief for worried parents granted, but his painfully slow and studied movement through the fences gaps (along with repeated calls to Dad to help) were a trifle embarassing. It throws up a conundrum. I love the fact he's careful in everything he does, which means I don't need to worry too greatly about what he's doing day-to-day. However, he really needs to toughen up soon or risk his peers consider him a figure of fun.
Hopefully the brightening weather will allow us to get out a little more now the worst of the winter is over. Indeed, it was only -2 degree's yesterday, a veritable heatwave up here.
I'm nearly finished at Asco now. With Wednesday my last day I'm winding down and essentially waiting for the time to pass. I'm horrible at goodbyes though, so am considering not returning after lunch on Wednesday. Is that too inconsiderate? Social dilemma ahoy.
**Useless fact of the day - Fathers tend to determine the height of their child, mothers their weight**
We've had a relatively event-free weekend, with little to report. I ran another training 10K around Inverurie/Port Elphinstone/Thainstone again on Saturday morning after Luca's football training (no goals Grandad Mike), setting another personal best which was pleasing. However, my knee is worryingly becoming problematic again, and I'm going to have to nurse it through the next week until Sundays Nairn 10K. I may have to return to the gym to work on the machines again, lifting fixed weights to improve the knee muscles again.
Later on Saturday I picked up Luca's pal Ethan, who was staying overnight with us while his Mum had a night out. We've known Ethan since he was a tot, but he has a number of issues and requires separate classing, tutoring, speech training, etc which means certain parents do avoid getting involved outside school. This makes him sound extremely difficult, and he is at times (he's incredibly hyper and frequently extremely ill-behaved) but I often get the impression he needs more stimulation, activity and attention. Although a nightmare with other children at times, I seem to get a different child when it's just the two of us (for example, I had an hour to kill with him on Saturday while Carole and Luca finished up on the farm). He seems to respond very well when you put him in situations where you're forcing him to make a decision rather than just telling him what to do. A light goes on, and he'll think about things which in turn helps him understand consequences. He likes this responsibility too. I often get the impression childrens problems are over-exposed at times, which (although with the best of intentions) makes a child feel different, excluded and victimised.
My amateur psychology is over now, I promise.
Luca has been great however. We had a Father/Son day on Sunday, spending most of it out on foot, exploring and deciding what and where to go on whims. He's becoming whip-smart and has a real hunger for knowledge. I get uncomfortable when I don't know the answer to a question ("How long do squid live for Dad?") as I don't want to simply give him answers for the sake of answers.
He's still not very physical however. We had a cringeworthy moment yesterday when our football went through a fence forcing him to climb through to retrieve it. He's incredibly conscious of the dangers of falling which is a relief for worried parents granted, but his painfully slow and studied movement through the fences gaps (along with repeated calls to Dad to help) were a trifle embarassing. It throws up a conundrum. I love the fact he's careful in everything he does, which means I don't need to worry too greatly about what he's doing day-to-day. However, he really needs to toughen up soon or risk his peers consider him a figure of fun.
Hopefully the brightening weather will allow us to get out a little more now the worst of the winter is over. Indeed, it was only -2 degree's yesterday, a veritable heatwave up here.
I'm nearly finished at Asco now. With Wednesday my last day I'm winding down and essentially waiting for the time to pass. I'm horrible at goodbyes though, so am considering not returning after lunch on Wednesday. Is that too inconsiderate? Social dilemma ahoy.
**Useless fact of the day - Fathers tend to determine the height of their child, mothers their weight**
Thursday, 21 February 2013
Bored yet?
With dad now nary a hicks spit from his 1000th blog entry, today I celebrate number 359. It's a prime number fact fans!
I managed to convince my body to step out into the freezing cold night last night, and ran a pre-routed 10km route. Somehow, despite the lack of food in my stomach, the icy temperatures and the woolly hat and gloves trendily completing my "look", I somehow ran a personal best time. Bizarrely nearly 3 minutes faster than Sundays similar distanced (albeit cross country) race. How does that work?
I did look quite effeminate though. I'd decided to trial running in shorter strides, which turned out to cause far less strain on my thigh muscles. Indeed, I felt fresh at the end. However, running past a shop window ("Booths" electronic store, for those who enjoy unnecessary detail) I noticed this new stride looks a bit, well, you know..........
So the question is. Do I continue with this new stride pattern, running faster times but like a girl? Or do I go back to the old long strides and slow times, just so I don't look like a pillock?
Look "more" like a pillock I do mean of course.
Kelly and Lucy emailed last night which was nice. Kelly's getting very pregnant. I'm not saying that because I've seen her (we haven't Facetime'd since before Christmas) but because she's getting a little, errrmm, tetchy. Following my regular query as to her lack of blogging activity she steamed "You write the blog for me then". I'm very certain she deleted a certain word before "blog" before hitting send too.
Kelly, I promise not to hound you about your lack of blogs. For a few days at least. Perhaps. Maybe. It's been so long since Carole was "in the club" that I forget the severe difficulties and emotions of being pregnant, especially as life resolutely refuses to slow down for you.
I have little Luca news for you however. He may have another football training to attend - he's been asked to join local boys club "Colony Park FC" training on Saturday mornings. More details on this to follow.
I'm unsure if it's a good thing or not, but this puts the kibosh on any plans to have him join the local kids rugby club training. A shame on one hand, as the greater variety of activities he participates in the better. On the other hand? He's not big for his age, and rugby might just be that bit too physical.
Tonight Carole and I have a pub quiz to attend. Having never come worse than 3rd in a pub quiz in my life the pressure is on to maintain my proudly held record. I am the font of utterly useless information.
**Useless fact of the day - A Male Fetus Can Get Erections In The Womb**
I managed to convince my body to step out into the freezing cold night last night, and ran a pre-routed 10km route. Somehow, despite the lack of food in my stomach, the icy temperatures and the woolly hat and gloves trendily completing my "look", I somehow ran a personal best time. Bizarrely nearly 3 minutes faster than Sundays similar distanced (albeit cross country) race. How does that work?
I did look quite effeminate though. I'd decided to trial running in shorter strides, which turned out to cause far less strain on my thigh muscles. Indeed, I felt fresh at the end. However, running past a shop window ("Booths" electronic store, for those who enjoy unnecessary detail) I noticed this new stride looks a bit, well, you know..........
So the question is. Do I continue with this new stride pattern, running faster times but like a girl? Or do I go back to the old long strides and slow times, just so I don't look like a pillock?
Look "more" like a pillock I do mean of course.
Kelly and Lucy emailed last night which was nice. Kelly's getting very pregnant. I'm not saying that because I've seen her (we haven't Facetime'd since before Christmas) but because she's getting a little, errrmm, tetchy. Following my regular query as to her lack of blogging activity she steamed "You write the blog for me then". I'm very certain she deleted a certain word before "blog" before hitting send too.
Kelly, I promise not to hound you about your lack of blogs. For a few days at least. Perhaps. Maybe. It's been so long since Carole was "in the club" that I forget the severe difficulties and emotions of being pregnant, especially as life resolutely refuses to slow down for you.
I have little Luca news for you however. He may have another football training to attend - he's been asked to join local boys club "Colony Park FC" training on Saturday mornings. More details on this to follow.
I'm unsure if it's a good thing or not, but this puts the kibosh on any plans to have him join the local kids rugby club training. A shame on one hand, as the greater variety of activities he participates in the better. On the other hand? He's not big for his age, and rugby might just be that bit too physical.
Tonight Carole and I have a pub quiz to attend. Having never come worse than 3rd in a pub quiz in my life the pressure is on to maintain my proudly held record. I am the font of utterly useless information.
**Useless fact of the day - A Male Fetus Can Get Erections In The Womb**
Wednesday, 20 February 2013
Wicked Wednesday
It's proving trickier than I imagined to post a blog a day. I don't see enough of Luca from Monday to Friday to wax lyrical about him, and ain't interesting enough to prose primarily about myself.
Carole though? Perma-grin just now. Harvey, albeit due to a cocktail of drugs that would put Keith Richards to shame, continues to strengthen. His hair is growing back too, which hide the litany of scars and scabs. Added to this is the promise of a new car, the replacement of her sporty Honda with a 4WD BMW.
My new diet is going OK. I've now managed 2 days without treats (apart from a bit of dark chocolate, but the diet sheets have assured me this is good for me!) although I do drool on my desk every time someone in the office bites into a cake. Which happens a lot.
Honestly, I think I work in the least healthy office in Scotland.........
Following my slathering over cakes that I won't get to eat, I'm also forcing myself out for a run as soon as I get home from work tonight. Allied to my new diet, I've also decided to increase the miles I'm running too. Almost every run I've had over the past few months has been short, and I've realised my unconscious has lately pushed me more toward short, fast runs and races due to my preference to gangly belt along like a kid fuelled with Sunny Delight.
This is absolutely no use for my stamina, which in turn affects my energy. I'm hoping it's the crux of my problem. I never run in the evenings either, so theoretically the extra time allowed will give me opportunity to clock up more miles than normal. Contrarily though, I'm frequently lethargic in the evenings so imagine tonight will involve a mental battle with my lazy subconscious.
A little bad news today, regard our (hopeful) attendance at Partick Thistle's Challenge Cup Final in a couple of months. Partick are, as you know, pretty hopeless at football, so reaching a final is a really big deal. Unfortunately, however, the thousands of tickets which went on sale yesterday were sold out within minutes. Where did all these fans come from? Our heroes usually play in front of average crowds of 1500 if they're lucky.
I blame David Cameron.
Tomorrow night Carole and I have a pub quiz to attend, but as I don't want to pre-empt what possibly may be the only thing worth writing about in tomorrows blog, I'll quickly bid adieu.
**Useless fact of the day - Partick Thistle's average home attendance is actually 2,345**
Carole though? Perma-grin just now. Harvey, albeit due to a cocktail of drugs that would put Keith Richards to shame, continues to strengthen. His hair is growing back too, which hide the litany of scars and scabs. Added to this is the promise of a new car, the replacement of her sporty Honda with a 4WD BMW.
My new diet is going OK. I've now managed 2 days without treats (apart from a bit of dark chocolate, but the diet sheets have assured me this is good for me!) although I do drool on my desk every time someone in the office bites into a cake. Which happens a lot.
Honestly, I think I work in the least healthy office in Scotland.........
Following my slathering over cakes that I won't get to eat, I'm also forcing myself out for a run as soon as I get home from work tonight. Allied to my new diet, I've also decided to increase the miles I'm running too. Almost every run I've had over the past few months has been short, and I've realised my unconscious has lately pushed me more toward short, fast runs and races due to my preference to gangly belt along like a kid fuelled with Sunny Delight.
This is absolutely no use for my stamina, which in turn affects my energy. I'm hoping it's the crux of my problem. I never run in the evenings either, so theoretically the extra time allowed will give me opportunity to clock up more miles than normal. Contrarily though, I'm frequently lethargic in the evenings so imagine tonight will involve a mental battle with my lazy subconscious.
A little bad news today, regard our (hopeful) attendance at Partick Thistle's Challenge Cup Final in a couple of months. Partick are, as you know, pretty hopeless at football, so reaching a final is a really big deal. Unfortunately, however, the thousands of tickets which went on sale yesterday were sold out within minutes. Where did all these fans come from? Our heroes usually play in front of average crowds of 1500 if they're lucky.
I blame David Cameron.
Tomorrow night Carole and I have a pub quiz to attend, but as I don't want to pre-empt what possibly may be the only thing worth writing about in tomorrows blog, I'll quickly bid adieu.
**Useless fact of the day - Partick Thistle's average home attendance is actually 2,345**
Tuesday, 19 February 2013
Tuesday Blues
I found a couple of photo's on my phone
While above is Luca and Bertie in the Maritime Museum. Oh, how I do dislike that place now.
Terrific news received from Oz this morning, with the announcement that Kelly, Chris and "wee ane" will be coming across this Christmas after all, to join big sister Lucy with her family (Scott, Cade & Braeden) also in tow.
But where will they stay? As large as our folks house is, can it accommodate (including Dad, Mum and Ross already in residence) as many as 10? Or will we assist and accommodate a few at our Inverurie "maison qui sent des chevaux"?
Speaking of horses (for those with a grasp of elemental French - or even "Google Translate"), what's been most interesting regard the recent furore surrounding our unknowing consumption of our equine friends, is that the assurances we are now getting from the various food standards agencies and supermarkets is that they'll "guarantee" the meat we receive from now will be perfectly safe to eat.
If you listen carefully, however, they won't guarantee what animal that "safe" meat actually comes from. Rat burgers next anyone?
I'm on a health kick now. Kind of. As of yesterday. I've decided my lack of energy is due to a poor diet. Granted, that's a safe assumption considering my daily diet includes ice-cream, kit-kats, doughnuts and cheesecake. With this in mind I traipsed Luca around the supermarket yesterday buying large varieties of foods that are terrifically good for you - but taste of warm cardboard. Luca's facial expression said it all as I loaded my basket with "goodies" including broccoli, wholemeal pasta, muesli, carrots, nuts and porridge. Eyeing the herbilicious basket, a quivering lip caught my eye. "That's not for me Dad is it?"
We have a family event coming up next month. It's the "Garioch Run" on March 24th. I'll run the 10K of course, but Carole has decided to return to the world of exercise again (no darling, sitting on horses is not real exercise) and compete in the 5K race. Luca will also run, in a 600m dash for 5-8 year olds. "I'm going to win" he confidently told me in the car last night. I warned him most kids would be bigger and older than him. "Doesn't matter" he shot straight back, "I'm always the fastest".
Assuming the horse comment doesn't affect my continued residence in our home, we're also planning to buy a new car. Carole's Honda is a terrific car to spin around in, but has proven entirely impractical. Drives over the stoney road to the farm are doing it little good, it's terrible in the snow and the low, tight interior almost puts my lanky body into spasm. We've found a buyer, so as soon as the deal is complete we'll replace it with the following - http://www.bmw.co.uk/en/new-vehicles/x/x3/2010/start.html
Obviously we'll purchase a 2nd hand version, but it's 4 wheel drive capability and low fuel consumption tick enough boxes for it to be a more practical model for our needs.
And who knows, it may even get used to visit Southern based relatives just that little bit more........
**Useless fact of the day - For a long time Bob drove a BMW-which, as far as he was concerned, stood for Bob Marley and the Wailers**
Luca's Valentine Card to Skye
While above is Luca and Bertie in the Maritime Museum. Oh, how I do dislike that place now.
Terrific news received from Oz this morning, with the announcement that Kelly, Chris and "wee ane" will be coming across this Christmas after all, to join big sister Lucy with her family (Scott, Cade & Braeden) also in tow.
But where will they stay? As large as our folks house is, can it accommodate (including Dad, Mum and Ross already in residence) as many as 10? Or will we assist and accommodate a few at our Inverurie "maison qui sent des chevaux"?
Speaking of horses (for those with a grasp of elemental French - or even "Google Translate"), what's been most interesting regard the recent furore surrounding our unknowing consumption of our equine friends, is that the assurances we are now getting from the various food standards agencies and supermarkets is that they'll "guarantee" the meat we receive from now will be perfectly safe to eat.
If you listen carefully, however, they won't guarantee what animal that "safe" meat actually comes from. Rat burgers next anyone?
I'm on a health kick now. Kind of. As of yesterday. I've decided my lack of energy is due to a poor diet. Granted, that's a safe assumption considering my daily diet includes ice-cream, kit-kats, doughnuts and cheesecake. With this in mind I traipsed Luca around the supermarket yesterday buying large varieties of foods that are terrifically good for you - but taste of warm cardboard. Luca's facial expression said it all as I loaded my basket with "goodies" including broccoli, wholemeal pasta, muesli, carrots, nuts and porridge. Eyeing the herbilicious basket, a quivering lip caught my eye. "That's not for me Dad is it?"
We have a family event coming up next month. It's the "Garioch Run" on March 24th. I'll run the 10K of course, but Carole has decided to return to the world of exercise again (no darling, sitting on horses is not real exercise) and compete in the 5K race. Luca will also run, in a 600m dash for 5-8 year olds. "I'm going to win" he confidently told me in the car last night. I warned him most kids would be bigger and older than him. "Doesn't matter" he shot straight back, "I'm always the fastest".
Assuming the horse comment doesn't affect my continued residence in our home, we're also planning to buy a new car. Carole's Honda is a terrific car to spin around in, but has proven entirely impractical. Drives over the stoney road to the farm are doing it little good, it's terrible in the snow and the low, tight interior almost puts my lanky body into spasm. We've found a buyer, so as soon as the deal is complete we'll replace it with the following - http://www.bmw.co.uk/en/new-vehicles/x/x3/2010/start.html
Obviously we'll purchase a 2nd hand version, but it's 4 wheel drive capability and low fuel consumption tick enough boxes for it to be a more practical model for our needs.
And who knows, it may even get used to visit Southern based relatives just that little bit more........
**Useless fact of the day - For a long time Bob drove a BMW-which, as far as he was concerned, stood for Bob Marley and the Wailers**
Monday, 18 February 2013
Creaking joints
Another Monday, another blog entry, the regularity of which will continue until next week when I leave Asco for the last time. Am I sad? Yes and no. I'm not yet excited about starting at Pentagon however curiously. Hopefully the week I have off inbetween will rejuvenate my weary mind and body.
My body particularly feels around 10 years older than normal this morning. Following my first ever cross country race a fortnight ago, yesterday I competed in the next in the series - except this time it was twice the distance.
I did alright (although the muddy hills were causing my legs to burn hotter than hell) and recorded an OK time, but felt curiously lethargic all the way through which made every stride an ordeal. The course being set as 3 laps was just horrible though, I really didn't enjoy the psychological battle each time I approached the killer hill.
Time to forget the freezing weather and get back training outdoors. I need to get some serious miles under my belt before the next event (Nairn 10K a week on Sunday) and eat/drink more healthily too - my diet has been appalling of late.
Due to the event I saw little of Luca yesterday, who joined his Mum at the farm (he wanted to come to the race, but I had no-one to watch him while I ran). However, on Saturday he took part in his usual football training. A hat trick (3 goals) was his impressive total. Bizarrely, he still continually insists he'd prefer to be a goalkeeper. He's a absolutely terrible goalie.
Following our departure from the training we picked up his pal Bertie to Aberdeen for a day out. We first saw "Sammy's Great Adventure" at the cinema (awful, just awful) before moving onto the Maritime Museum (yes, again, I'm not sure how many more times I can take it), a trip to a second hand bookstore and a run around beside the beach before an (absolutely horrible) snack in Asda's cafe.
I was genuinely impressed particularly with Asda's ability to make the chips almost inedible. I mean, seriously, how do you cock up chips?
Lucy, by chips I of course mean fries.
Did I mention Bertie's choice of outfit for our trip? This very blond child (his barnet is an exact replication of Boris Johnson's) turned up at his front door resplendent in a full-body Transformers costume, with legs 3 inches too short for his legs. For some reason the outfit also incorporated a cape.
I insisted he took a very large coat with him. And not because I was worried about him getting cold.
**Useless fact of the day - A peanut is neither a pea nor a nut**
My body particularly feels around 10 years older than normal this morning. Following my first ever cross country race a fortnight ago, yesterday I competed in the next in the series - except this time it was twice the distance.
I did alright (although the muddy hills were causing my legs to burn hotter than hell) and recorded an OK time, but felt curiously lethargic all the way through which made every stride an ordeal. The course being set as 3 laps was just horrible though, I really didn't enjoy the psychological battle each time I approached the killer hill.
Time to forget the freezing weather and get back training outdoors. I need to get some serious miles under my belt before the next event (Nairn 10K a week on Sunday) and eat/drink more healthily too - my diet has been appalling of late.
Due to the event I saw little of Luca yesterday, who joined his Mum at the farm (he wanted to come to the race, but I had no-one to watch him while I ran). However, on Saturday he took part in his usual football training. A hat trick (3 goals) was his impressive total. Bizarrely, he still continually insists he'd prefer to be a goalkeeper. He's a absolutely terrible goalie.
Following our departure from the training we picked up his pal Bertie to Aberdeen for a day out. We first saw "Sammy's Great Adventure" at the cinema (awful, just awful) before moving onto the Maritime Museum (yes, again, I'm not sure how many more times I can take it), a trip to a second hand bookstore and a run around beside the beach before an (absolutely horrible) snack in Asda's cafe.
I was genuinely impressed particularly with Asda's ability to make the chips almost inedible. I mean, seriously, how do you cock up chips?
Lucy, by chips I of course mean fries.
Did I mention Bertie's choice of outfit for our trip? This very blond child (his barnet is an exact replication of Boris Johnson's) turned up at his front door resplendent in a full-body Transformers costume, with legs 3 inches too short for his legs. For some reason the outfit also incorporated a cape.
I insisted he took a very large coat with him. And not because I was worried about him getting cold.
**Useless fact of the day - A peanut is neither a pea nor a nut**
Friday, 15 February 2013
Valentines hangover
Do not believe that your eyes are fooling you, this indeed is another blog entry, nary a single day after the last. And yes, this is wholly demonstrative of how quiet it is at work for me now.
What to say since yesterday? Thursday, as I'm certain you were all aware (hopefully) was Valentines Day, a day for faux declarations of affection, seemingly intended to demonstrate how inept we are the other 364 days of the year at showing our love for our other halfs. What a great idea that was by Christian priest Valentine. I bet he didn't have many male friends.
That said, we had a nice day yesterday. Carole cooked us a 3 course dinner (delicious) before we settled down to a DVD, the excruciatingly bad "Resident Evil Retribution". It was the latest in a series of Resident Evil movies (we love any zombie related flicks) but even for our tastes it was rather a test of endurance to persevere through to end credits. My acting at age 15, pretending to Mum and Dad that the exquisite colours of vomit exiting my body was due to having "eaten a bad chipper" rather than the bottle of Merrydown cider I'd consumed down at the local river was more convincing than that of the professional "actors" in this movie.
Interestingly, however, Carole stayed awake throughout. Interesting because since her pregnancy (nearly 7 years ago - crikey) she's been wholly unable to stay awake throughout a single film. Seriously. Usually she'll fall asleep minutes after a films intro, even if we're at the cinema. It's like her superpower.
Luca joined in with the spirit of the day too. He created a Valentines Day card for his Mum at after-school club, and resolutely kept it in his grasp even as we trudged round the supermarket before coming home. He was determined that no harm would come to it until he presented it to his Mummy. Cute
During our expedition I explained the history and the point of Valentines Day to him. He shot me a worried glance after I'd finished talking. "I should have given Skye a Valentines card today shouldn't I?". It transpires Skye is his girlfriend again (they appear to have rather an on/off relationship.....), so we hatched a plan. We raced home, pulled his paper and pens from the cupboard and he created a personalised card for Skye. He drew a picture of a rhino on the front of the card too, the old romantic.
Back into the car we jumped (by now the clock had struck 7.30pm) and drove to Skye's house. Luca jumped out, sneaked to her front door and very quietly posted it through the letterbox before sprinting back toward me. "She'll be so happy when she gets that won't she Dad?" he proudly declared, as he climbed back into the car, rested his arms behind his head and sighed smugly.
**Useless fact of the day - Scientists have not been able to explain a 1998 study showing a bright light shone on the backs of human knees can reset the brain's sleep-wake clock**
What to say since yesterday? Thursday, as I'm certain you were all aware (hopefully) was Valentines Day, a day for faux declarations of affection, seemingly intended to demonstrate how inept we are the other 364 days of the year at showing our love for our other halfs. What a great idea that was by Christian priest Valentine. I bet he didn't have many male friends.
That said, we had a nice day yesterday. Carole cooked us a 3 course dinner (delicious) before we settled down to a DVD, the excruciatingly bad "Resident Evil Retribution". It was the latest in a series of Resident Evil movies (we love any zombie related flicks) but even for our tastes it was rather a test of endurance to persevere through to end credits. My acting at age 15, pretending to Mum and Dad that the exquisite colours of vomit exiting my body was due to having "eaten a bad chipper" rather than the bottle of Merrydown cider I'd consumed down at the local river was more convincing than that of the professional "actors" in this movie.
Interestingly, however, Carole stayed awake throughout. Interesting because since her pregnancy (nearly 7 years ago - crikey) she's been wholly unable to stay awake throughout a single film. Seriously. Usually she'll fall asleep minutes after a films intro, even if we're at the cinema. It's like her superpower.
Luca joined in with the spirit of the day too. He created a Valentines Day card for his Mum at after-school club, and resolutely kept it in his grasp even as we trudged round the supermarket before coming home. He was determined that no harm would come to it until he presented it to his Mummy. Cute
During our expedition I explained the history and the point of Valentines Day to him. He shot me a worried glance after I'd finished talking. "I should have given Skye a Valentines card today shouldn't I?". It transpires Skye is his girlfriend again (they appear to have rather an on/off relationship.....), so we hatched a plan. We raced home, pulled his paper and pens from the cupboard and he created a personalised card for Skye. He drew a picture of a rhino on the front of the card too, the old romantic.
Back into the car we jumped (by now the clock had struck 7.30pm) and drove to Skye's house. Luca jumped out, sneaked to her front door and very quietly posted it through the letterbox before sprinting back toward me. "She'll be so happy when she gets that won't she Dad?" he proudly declared, as he climbed back into the car, rested his arms behind his head and sighed smugly.
**Useless fact of the day - Scientists have not been able to explain a 1998 study showing a bright light shone on the backs of human knees can reset the brain's sleep-wake clock**
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