Wee lead slippers

The Blog is back!

Aye, after nearly two years of no updates, and faced with the imminent arrival of a number 2, the blog has been caught up in a tidal wave of indifference.

Terrible so it is. The novelty wears off and the wee man's blog is left to rot in the field, wither on the vine, dry up in the sunshine (that's enough - ed). I'll add the old ones and you can read back and see how much enthusiasm there was. No excuses. Lost interest. Sorry.

But we're back and not by popular demand. I mean, it's not like I've been inundated with requests for an update and some photies. No siree. Your own fault really.

Here's what the wee boy looks like. An amazing transformation in just two short years, don't you think?

But really he's a wee sweetie. Here he is with a mucky face after doing big drawings on the patio with barbecue coals. Aye, he's grand at the drawing and I'll include some fine examples of his scribblings. Like this fine creature.

Happy New Year

Well, that's Christmas been and gone, along with the relatives who came to eat the food, drink the drink and generally make us watch bad television. Naturally, the house was filled with new plastic although each new toy replaced one that Mandy took away. It goes without saying that the main interest was in the boxes as this sequence amply demonstrates.

Anyway, judging by the extent to which it's driving us up the wall, the top toy of 2005 has been (but might not be for much longer...) the Old MacDonald tractor. The animal noises are fine, the engine is fine, the reversing beep is fine, even the song is fine. But help ma Boab, the bloody clicky wheels ...

Doesn't his new Noddy dressing gown make him look like a combination of something out of Jeeves and Wooster and a young Hugh Heffner?

Still, 2006 is nearly here so in the spirit of New Year, here's hoping all the street parties are blown away again and we all have a proper Hogmanay and a happy and prosperous new year.

The boy's a fairy!

Hot competition in the nursery. Would he get one of the star roles in the nursery nativity? Joseph? Perhaps he would follow in his Dad's footstep and get to be first King? Nah. Not even the donkey or a sheep or bit of lowing cattle. A fairy! They call it an angel but really, look at him. Shove a christmas tree up his jacks and it's a fairy. God knows what kind of impact that'll have on him. He'll maybe end up like that Antony guy.

Check out the Boris Johnson lookalike.

Still, on Ewan's behalf, happy Christmas everybody.

Do they know it's (nearly) Christmas?

To highlight the yuletide misery of all those who will be spending Christmas on the streets, Ewan has been spending the past few weeks living and sleeping in a box. He plans to remain in the box until there's an end to world hunger, war, pestilence, disease, environmental degradation, debt, speeding, arguing, dirty looks and sighing.

This has nothing to do with the rather bad 1980s band "Living in a Box" whose eponymous hit "Living in a Box" explored the alienation inherent in comsumerist society, equating the pressures of modern life to, yes you've guessed, living in a box. Have a look. These guys had a way with words.

Are we not men?

Aye, give a dad a new camera and he'll be taking photies until the cows come home

But the boy's looking grand, don't you think. Here he is with Noddy, giving him a bearhug and taking him for a walk in his pram (surely, Noddy has a car that he drives himself, I hear you say. Shut it). They look like the Pet Shop Boys in their colander hats and aprons. Or Devo maybe. The limp-wristed pram pushing doesn't help.

Only 40 spending days until Christmas!

What is there to be to said about young Ewan? He's been two for over a month but isn't terrible yet. His vocabulary is expanding. He now says "No" about five times a second rather than just once like he used to. Does great animal noises: monkey, cow, sheep, cat, dog and spider. Handsome bugger. Looking more like his da every day. He's a big fan of Rory.

Here he is getting his five-a-day and getting ready for Christmas (spot that Santa) and I know that some of you will be wondering what to buy him. To help in the decision-making he has a wish list at Amazon.co.uk. OK so it's in the name of Steven Hope but rest assured it's all stuff for Ewan. You might wonder what a two-year-old would do with some of these things but let me reassure you: he's very advanced for his years. He'll use all of them and I'm always willing to help out.

Top tip! Apparently you can click on the photos and they get bigger! Great for all the relatives.

Happy Birthday Ewan!!

It seems much more than a year ago that the wee man was being unceremoniously ripped from his mother's womb. Of course, it is. He's TWO! And can you believe that he shares the same birthday as Margaret Thatcher? Bloody old vampire. Still hanging around stalking the planet looking for young virgins' blood to suck.

Much as we celebrated, Mandy, fearing that the terrible twos would be an overnight transformation, whisked him to Fife's detention centre at Dalgety Bay. A bit like Guantanamo Bay except the kids at "Play Planet" are forced to wear garish stripey jumpers rather than those charming orange jump suits. Look.

They only kept him for a couple hours. Which is more than can be said for Dubya's torture victims.

Result: Wee Bob 2 - Charlie Cook 0

So, here we are. Four months later and not a word. Thought I'd better catch up before the wee man's birthday. Two! Can you believe it! Two years have just slipped past. Here's some pictures. You can see that the Bob's thriving well on his fine Scottish diet of Irn Bru. He's looking a bit tasty, don't you think? Aye, well so did some wee chav animal at his nursery. Bit hit! On the face! Kick 'er f%$@ing face in, I say. I'll teach him that later when M's not looking.

We're just back from a glorious weekend of cheese at the delightful Brighouse Bay holiday park. What were we thinking: camping in October? Aye, bloody fools. The wind blew wild and the wind blew strong. Tent pole snapped! Oh fuckeroo. Aha! Oho! Tent flat on the floor. How many miles back to homio?

Bah, none of that. Instead we rented a lovely static caravan. What's that you say: cheesy decor in the style of a retirement flat, complete with the smell of wet dog and wee? Not at all, luxury I say. Central heating, a cooker, toilet in the night-time that isn't an empty bottle.

Speaking of ahas and ohos, check out this couple of arses. I mean, Julia, your books are great (apart from that Charlie Cook crap, I mean, when the staff in bookshops are telling you not to buy books, you should know there's something wrong) but give up the singing.

Anyhow, the boy's two soon. Feel free to send cheques, postal orders and bottles of whisky. I'll look after them for him. Best make the cheques out to me. He hasn't got an account and he'll be too busy on his birthday present - a dandy horse. Better still, send cash. Or an ipod nano. Anything.

A classic Scottish picnic

Aye, the camping in Mallaig was a washout. Not that we even got the car started to get there. Poor Gerry and co's tent was washed away in a hurricane and they barely escaped with their lives

A slight exaggeration but nearly true. They got wet and and had a poor night's sleep. We had to content ourselves with a picnic in St Andrews. It was a classic. Drive all the way there. Have a wee bit of a snack, feed the giraffe and go to the cafe. But just as you buy the chips, the rain starts so it's a picnic in the car and a drive home.

Still, today was lovely and sunny. The kind of day when you get the wellies on the monkey and head off for a day of sheeps, goats, llamas, chickens and pigs at the East Links Family Park cum zoo, pet shop and train ride in Dunbar. Still, they could do without The Happy Gang on the train. Happy my arse. Psychotic f***ing weirdo lunatics. Sing along with me.

If you're unhappy and you know it
Put on a smile and pretend
If you're unhappy and you know it ... (repeat until the off licence opens)

Blog on the move

Software, software, software

I mean what's the problem with putting a bit of text and the odd photie on the interweb? Whatever it is iBlog struggles. So now it's going to be hosted by Typepad, which for a small fee gives you nice things like comments and things. Feel free to comment. I can just delete them if I don't think you're funny enough.