Wee lead slippers

Life's a beach

Aye, first sign of the sun and yer man's on the beach poking the sand with a stick

And that's about it really. A drive to St Andrew's, a short walk, some one, two, three, weeeeeeeee! walking along holding me and M's hands and some splashing in the sea (in bright blue wellies). There's days when sandpits just aren't enough.

A prodigy!

Mandy's just back from the Parents' evening at Ewan's nursery. He got his first report card and it's enough to make any Dad's heart swell with pride.

Aye, he's got an 'A' in Playing With Sand, an 'A' in Not Falling Over Things Lying On The Floor and an 'A' in Being Cheerful. We're thinking we might need to get him a tutor in risk assessment cos then if he made good progress he could maybe get an NVQ in Sliding Down The Chute Without Scuffing Your Face On The Carpet.

But the nursery sorted out his developmental priorities so he's got a strategy with clear goals, performance indicators, an Action Plan and a mechanism to provide periodic review (keeping an eye on him) and feedback (a slap). One of his big goals will be Saying Words and another will be Running Without Falling Quite So Often.

It's a serious business this going to nursery. It might look like a lot of noise and larking about but it's not, it's heuristic play!

No news is broadband

Aye, bugger all to report

But we've got broadband so you just write a wee bit of rubbish and publish it to an audience of, err, maybe six instantly. Fabulous.

Anyway. Here's a thing. Bob was listening to PM on the radio this evening on the way home from nursery. He's a man of few words but what little he knows he uses regularly and often on a frequent basis all the time. So there he is chuntering away in the back. "Hiya!", "daddy!", "Mummy!" and just as Eddie Mair finishes interviewing Tony Blair about Iraq, the economy and the usual election stuff, he pipes up with "lying shitbag". Honest. He did. Still, who'd vote for Michael Howard. Racist &*^%.

Here's all his mates toasting their arses on the radiator after a wee spin in the washing machine. Check that monkey. How cool is he.

Broadband finally arrives

Yes, we've completely run out of excuses. Those kind people at British Telecommunications plc have finally got round to upgrading the Limekilns exchange so now the interweb is buzzing.

So there's nothing to stop me keeping the world constantly updated with the latest adventures. Well, EXcept FOR THe fact that Ev ery time I go near my computer i've GOT A wEE BOY switcHING THE capS lock on and off. He loves it. A wee light comes on. Doesn't bother with any other keys. Just Caps Lock.

How's the young man looking these days? Just lovely. He's doing his best to feed himself and sometimes he gets some of it into his mouth. Look closely and you can see that he hasn't got the hang of the spoon idea at all. Here he is in the kind of pose that some joker finds and shows at your 21st birthday party. Sorry.

What else do we get? Cheek that's what. Pure cheek, disguised as fun. Still, soon he'll be old enough to understand what a good leathering's for. Aye, revenge will be mine. Tell that to the social workers. You might get through if they haven't all buggered on a half day's flexi-leave. Not that they'd do anything anyway. Ha ha! Ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha .... (trails off into madness).

But the poor wee lad's suffering with his teeth. You know how it is, just as you're learning to chew, the blunt ones start forcing their way through. Obviously sore. Shame. Wakes him up in the middle of the night and you know, when he wakes up, the only thing on my mind is the pain and suffering of my wee boy. Honest. No, really. I swear. It's the truth.

Anyway. I'll save some stories for later. Like the tale of the sand pit. The adventure of the new wellies. Life on the open road in a bike trailer. Fun on a new-laid patio. Watch this webspace.