So the weekend went well...aside from R's parents having a minor detour through the wilds of Norfolk on Friday night, and my beloved and I having stinking colds all weekend.
It all went so well for us on the way there aside from R getting me lost trying to get to the Blackwall tunnel, and me eating all my Fox's Fruit sweets- Must consumer sugar when driving!!!!
The two granma's (they'll hate that) took R into Norwich for the day on Saturday to shop till R dropped for Baby paraphenalia...we now have almost everything we could ever need ever for a baby, and a few things we probably didn't need but aftera neatly executed pincer movement by granny 1 and granny 2 we have ended up with things that match...outrageous.
Grandad1 & 2 spent the day admiring tools and things made in fibreglass (me pa's boat is coing along lovely..it's a work of art and a labour of love that floats..I am proud as a bowl of punch of him)
Meal in the evening with all involved plus me brother and his missus (congrats to she and he too...a cousin for spud!!Hoorah)
Sunday...relaxing..more boat looking, big roast...I fucked up on the Yorkshire Puds...one egg too many...and thenm from Yorkshire...oh, the shame!!
Quiet pint in evening..sleep and then drive home Monday. Nice.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Scary shite ahead
Ok, so now I have to drive to Norfolk tonight for the meeting of the grandparents to be...that's some scary stuff right there in front of me. rach and I have been togerther for 4 years, and they have never met...It seems only right and proper that they are formally introduced before they get issued with their Granny and Grandpa t-shirts though.
Excellent, it's pissing it down too...so this should be a fun journey...oh poor me....
Excellent, it's pissing it down too...so this should be a fun journey...oh poor me....
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Ok, it looks like it's working again
Five weeks to baby and all's well...congratulations to Chris who has just had baby Joe...
Thursday, August 10, 2006
A fine night for the Arsenal
Goals from the boy Cesc and from "The Violence"...it's a good start to another season. I hope the baby likes football, or we are in for a turbulent ride.
Must get me a new shirt...and really must work on convincing the missus to let me put him/her in a baby sized kit..
On the bad news front, the bathroom has sprung a leak...bollocks..we really need this at the moment. Still, me ma's coming down this weekend..wonder how handy she is with a monkey wrench.
Must get me a new shirt...and really must work on convincing the missus to let me put him/her in a baby sized kit..
On the bad news front, the bathroom has sprung a leak...bollocks..we really need this at the moment. Still, me ma's coming down this weekend..wonder how handy she is with a monkey wrench.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Come on the Arsenal
So we're back in Europe tonight against the mighty Dinamo Zagreb...let's hope our plucky youngsters can do it again...come on Cesc, bring on Rosicky...oh and Ashley Who? Go join Sol on the south coast.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Here's a few things I think I consider finished now.
Un-struck
I am an un-struck match,
you are already the sun.
Probes have been sent to far of places
but cannot compute what you have become.
Sorted
I can only pick moments
because moments is all this will allow.
Let’s not even consider one or the other
as any sort of sacred or cash cow.
You saw to what was yours,
and I saw to what was mine.
Everyone was happy
and all will be for all time.
Rounds
You have come through to make checks
at various points in the morning,
turned the vacuum up to twelve
just to check I am still alive.
Out of bed and stretching arms
like a bird testing healed wings;
cautious and not entirely confident.
Last night you were doubling up
during happy hour.
The Patient
Stock answers don’t always fit the bill;
on more than one occasion you
have been fit to burst,
or ready to kill.
There have been times
when you’re beyond being at a loss
about what to do.
People have crossed obvious lines
when they forgot to give even half a toss
about how this affects you.
The Baileys bottle will never see the cap again,
it’s easier to just discard.
For richer or poorer, better or worse
wasn’t meant to be this hard.
Weekly phone calls from interested sons
mean something, and there are relations to help.
The location to live in you both chose.
You’re, of course, not the only ones
to go through this, but who can forget the self
when you see through the doctor’s helpful pose.
You swore you would both be together
beyond being old.
Somebody has to give.
What are you not being told?
Armitage Shanks
Softly, softly catchy monkey my arse.
Who’s got time for that these days, I ask you.
I was put out to grass,
But I swear I will out last you.
Like a tiger asleep
you’ve kept half an eye
on exactly which side
your bread’s buttered on,
maintained a stance in the eye of the storm
and kept more than a glance
on which directions the cookie crumbled.
Asked who’s batting or bowling
and from where the thunder rumbled,
taken note of what’s good for the goose;
seen what’s preferred by the gander.
You observed and calculated the sweet spot of your dander
and exactly how it’s raised.
Lord be praised,
you’ve chanced upon something.
Travel Adapter
Room 110, Las Tres Palmeras, La Gomera, September 2005
At 4am, waking with a factor 20 hangover,
time to get away from this,
to get somewhere to stop the mind turning over;
the brain’s throttle stuck.
You arrive at the destination
dressed like Alec Guinness in the River Kwai,
it will take light years to get this body
anything other than white.
You have a week.
Two days in,
and, like a drummer, the sun
has tightened our skins;
wound them in to create the perfect ouch
with every touch of cotton sheets.
Easing, and peeling your swimsuit down
in the shower later, the sea salt
being replaced by our own.
We could blame the heat,
doing things only done on holiday.
Like Buzz Aldrin in flip-flops
you hope from rock to rock
over this lava, this moon country
to watch black crabs cling to the rocks.
If they let go, it’s next stop America,
you wonder if you would put the effort in.
That walk across that black sand,
the sea delivering each tiny stone right to your feet,
you notice the way damp sand
looks like the invisible man walking on a carpet.
You notice you have time to notice this.
Desert Island Discs
We have our record collections
that will never meet…
songs to choose as our own.
Go too fast and there will be blood on the tracks.
There are things that I have never made you hear,
songs I love,
words everyone should love.
Dylan you have yet to grasp,
as you should.
Or rare groove I don’t get,
but if given a chance I could.
There are things I need you to hear.
Philosophy
I want to write the poem
that connects Deeley-Boppers and Wittgenstein,
but I haven’t the learning
and I haven’t got the time.
Un-struck
I am an un-struck match,
you are already the sun.
Probes have been sent to far of places
but cannot compute what you have become.
Sorted
I can only pick moments
because moments is all this will allow.
Let’s not even consider one or the other
as any sort of sacred or cash cow.
You saw to what was yours,
and I saw to what was mine.
Everyone was happy
and all will be for all time.
Rounds
You have come through to make checks
at various points in the morning,
turned the vacuum up to twelve
just to check I am still alive.
Out of bed and stretching arms
like a bird testing healed wings;
cautious and not entirely confident.
Last night you were doubling up
during happy hour.
The Patient
Stock answers don’t always fit the bill;
on more than one occasion you
have been fit to burst,
or ready to kill.
There have been times
when you’re beyond being at a loss
about what to do.
People have crossed obvious lines
when they forgot to give even half a toss
about how this affects you.
The Baileys bottle will never see the cap again,
it’s easier to just discard.
For richer or poorer, better or worse
wasn’t meant to be this hard.
Weekly phone calls from interested sons
mean something, and there are relations to help.
The location to live in you both chose.
You’re, of course, not the only ones
to go through this, but who can forget the self
when you see through the doctor’s helpful pose.
You swore you would both be together
beyond being old.
Somebody has to give.
What are you not being told?
Armitage Shanks
Softly, softly catchy monkey my arse.
Who’s got time for that these days, I ask you.
I was put out to grass,
But I swear I will out last you.
Like a tiger asleep
you’ve kept half an eye
on exactly which side
your bread’s buttered on,
maintained a stance in the eye of the storm
and kept more than a glance
on which directions the cookie crumbled.
Asked who’s batting or bowling
and from where the thunder rumbled,
taken note of what’s good for the goose;
seen what’s preferred by the gander.
You observed and calculated the sweet spot of your dander
and exactly how it’s raised.
Lord be praised,
you’ve chanced upon something.
Travel Adapter
Room 110, Las Tres Palmeras, La Gomera, September 2005
At 4am, waking with a factor 20 hangover,
time to get away from this,
to get somewhere to stop the mind turning over;
the brain’s throttle stuck.
You arrive at the destination
dressed like Alec Guinness in the River Kwai,
it will take light years to get this body
anything other than white.
You have a week.
Two days in,
and, like a drummer, the sun
has tightened our skins;
wound them in to create the perfect ouch
with every touch of cotton sheets.
Easing, and peeling your swimsuit down
in the shower later, the sea salt
being replaced by our own.
We could blame the heat,
doing things only done on holiday.
Like Buzz Aldrin in flip-flops
you hope from rock to rock
over this lava, this moon country
to watch black crabs cling to the rocks.
If they let go, it’s next stop America,
you wonder if you would put the effort in.
That walk across that black sand,
the sea delivering each tiny stone right to your feet,
you notice the way damp sand
looks like the invisible man walking on a carpet.
You notice you have time to notice this.
Desert Island Discs
We have our record collections
that will never meet…
songs to choose as our own.
Go too fast and there will be blood on the tracks.
There are things that I have never made you hear,
songs I love,
words everyone should love.
Dylan you have yet to grasp,
as you should.
Or rare groove I don’t get,
but if given a chance I could.
There are things I need you to hear.
Philosophy
I want to write the poem
that connects Deeley-Boppers and Wittgenstein,
but I haven’t the learning
and I haven’t got the time.
It's been a while
Have just returned from a weekend in Worstead in that fair county of Norfolk. T'was my annual trip to get absolutely twatted for four days and forget about what the world has to offer. It won't make it to Norfolk for a few years anyway. This year was a bit more poignant as it is the last time I go there for that sort of things sans baby. This time next year Spud will be amongst us and demanding a look at the second hand stalls and the cake tent...
More news on the Western Front, we took delivery of a nine week old kitten recently. She's called Laika and despite being lovely she is driving me mad...I haven't slept the night through since we had her...still, it's practice for the big event.
Got the second NCT class tonight. That should be fun.
More news on the Western Front, we took delivery of a nine week old kitten recently. She's called Laika and despite being lovely she is driving me mad...I haven't slept the night through since we had her...still, it's practice for the big event.
Got the second NCT class tonight. That should be fun.
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