It is 1.31pm on April 29 2011 and I’m writing this post for no other reason that I want to record the moment. As simple as that. I’ve been at home all morning, with my two boys, while my Successful Other Half as been at work and our stepdaughter is with her dad.
The boys have been playing on their computers and I’ve been glued to the telly and Twitter. I did have grand plans to get up early and go into central London to soak up the atmosphere, but in the end, a lie-in on a non-school day won the day.
Our Big Day
I’m not a Royalist, but I was genuinely moved by the whole affair and wish William and Kate all the best. It brought back lots of memories of my own wedding day last year.
So here, just for the record of the ongoing journey of my blog, are a couple of shots I took of the Big Day from the comfort of my armchair. Continue reading
I have to confess, I got rather involved in the Royal wedding this morning, despite proclaiming total indifferencve to the event prevously. As a result, I fell short in my Housedad duties and forgot to give my sons their breakfast.
When I finally emrged from my pit after my engrossment in the festivities, this is what greeted me….
'Where's our breakfast?'
Kate with the Stick Insect, Puppy and Woolly Mammoth
As the world’s spotlight shines on one Kate today - the one who will become a duchess or princess or whatever – I thought it would be momentarily diverting to focus on the other Kate, the Queen of the Listography KateTakes5. She has let me turn the tables on her and has taken my World-Exclusive-Because-No-one-Else-Is-Interested ‘Just Give 3′ Interview Of The Century. .
Three words to describe yourself
Disorganised, Lucky, Small
Three animals that represent your kids
Stick insect, Puppy, Woolley Mammoth
Three jobs you’d like them to do when they grow up
I don’t really mind as long as they’re happy. Maybe an astronaut, a Nobel
Peace Prize winner and a Scientist that discovers the cure for cancer? But
you know, whatever… Continue reading
All around my family home in Manchester are photographs of my late mother with her grandkids. This led to the obvious question when we were up there last week: ‘Dad, where’s Gran Betty?’
How do you answer this one? I am a sensitive soul, so the obvious reply was that she was in Heaven, watching over us. But my Dad doesn’t have a poetic bone in his body. He believes in truth, not embellishment; facts not lies, no matter how white, well-intended or warmly dressed up.
He took my children by their hands and said: ‘Let’s go and see her.’ Continue reading