Temporal shifts...

Since I have been responsible for the upbringing of a supreme being, it has never ceased to amaze me how little 'time' I now have. I remember having evenings. Evenings where I could cook a wonderful meal if I chose. Evenings where I could fritter time away mending things or watching the latest film release. Now an evening lasts roughly between 9.15pm and 9.45pm. That's the 30 minutes after putting the supreme being to bed and finishing those things on the 'must do' list (the 'could do' list having being thrown out some while ago), and before collapsing exhausted into bed. And it doesn't take much to throw those 30 minutes right out the window.

Those were the 30 minutes when the blog was often written. And it seems the last 4 weeks have seen a temporal shift which used all those 30 minutes with a trip to Banchory to see Nana and Baba; a trip to High Wycombe to see the Southern Rookes for my niece's 18th (another temporal shift of a different kind); a very bad tooth infection for Mummy; and, quite crucially in eating up all our time, was selling our flat and being left with the daunting prospect of homelessness to use up the spare minutes desperately searching for a place to rent before we went on holiday at the end of October. We did it...just. With only a few hours to spare. It really doesn't take a lot to use up the little time you have left when you have an increasingly active and defiant nearly 2 year-old supreme being in tow. So apologies for the delay, but in my little families hierarchy of needs sorting a roof over our head became Daddy's number one priority. Below is a photo archive for the last 4 weeks to keep you up to speed with the life of Rookes. Normal business will hopefully resume with the next post about our trip to Spain.

 Blending in with nature

 Playground fun (Part 1)

 All aboard with Nana and Baba

 Out-swinging Nana

 Playground fun (Part 2)

Crazy bouncing space hoppers

 The Southern Rookes

 A giggling birthday girl with Grandma and Grandad

 Chloe with her best-looking uncle

18 years old - where did the years go?

Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau...

I'm not Welsh, nor is my father, but it was to the "Land of my Fathers" that we headed to continue the (not really) summer holiday. Wales, land of song, castles and the red dragon. It's national emblem is the leek and its language unintelligible to the uninitiated. Mountains, valleys and beaches - summer holidays from Birmingham as a young boy I remember with fondness.

We were headed to Borth y Gest, a tiny little picturesque village near Porthmadog in North Wales, to stay in our friend Tom's parents cottage. I had been before and knew what a gorgeous cottage it was, fabulously located right on the bay, with lovely little coves and beaches nearby, plus small hills and woodland walks from the door. Perfect for a supreme being who is as eager as ever to learn all there is to know about the world, only now wants to do it all within 10 seconds and in Welsh. An ever-changing world of adventure - perfect to keep Emily amused.

Emily was up early so we watched the sun come up from the bedroom window

We had plans to go on the steam train, visit the rabbit farm, the castles and other nearby sites. But with the weather set for glorious sun all week we quickly settled into a routine of sandcastle building and shell collecting on the beach, learning about nature and bramble eating in the woods, eating ice cream and having adventures everyday. In fact we never really left Borth y Gest, except to go shopping in Porthmadog, and one very exciting day trip to Tanya's Aunt and Uncle who live a semi self-sufficient lifestyle in a wonderful self-built house in Anglessey (Emily made big friends with their goose).

 My two lovely ladies indulging in ice cream

Daddy was in his element, reliving his childhood and truly appreciating what a master sandcastle builder he really is. On the other hand Emily wasn't so convinced, as another "Daddys castle - uh oh" rang out across the beach at the same time as she laid ruin to another masterpiece. She was however more patient with filling up the moat. Although admittedly this normally involved me running frantically back and forth to the sea with a substandard bucket full of water, whilst a supreme being looked on crying "Daddy, more water". No matter though, it was safe to say Emily LOVED the beach.

 "Daddy, more water"

 Architectural brilliance, seconds before "Daddy's castle - uh oh!"

 Beach beauties on a beauty of a beach

Still running on the beach at 5pm

So if we weren't on the beach we were in the woods learning all about nature. We learnt all about oak trees, from their leaves to their acorns to their deep roots. We learnt that brambles scratch but blackberries taste really good. We learnt that nettles sting and holly is spikey. And Daddy learnt that trying to change a supreme being's nappy in the woods is no mean feat. We wandered for hours in the woods, a very happy Emily smiling and chatting away with her new found woodland knowledge.

So between the woods and the beach, regular ice cream and blackberries, a trip to Anglessey to meet a goose and some quality renditions of "Row, Row Boat" it was a sterling success. Thanks to Jim and Mary for letting us stay in the lovely Dolphin Cottage!!

 Foraging in the woods, face covered in blackberries

Dolphin cottage - our home for the week

Amma and Dad...

As part of our (not really) Summer holiday, we planned to spend some time with my Mum and Dad prior to a week in Wales. It was Emily’s first time staying at Grandma and Grandad’s house, and we weren’t too sure how she would get on, but she took to my childhood home like she had also grown up there, and was right at home within minutes.

Riding on "Beep Beep", Daddy's childhood push along

Grandma and Grandad it seems have particularly hard names to say, so one of the first things the supreme being did was re-christen them to Amma and Dad. Much simpler all round, although a little confusing on the paternal side.

Emily just loves a garden to run around in, so with the sun smiling not much could go wrong. We met old friends Kev and Jill on their narrowboat, took a trip to see the farm animals at Umberslade Farm, went bramble picking at the Lickey Hills, met big cousin Ruth, as well listening to Daddy witter on about his childhood memories around Birmingham. We even got Amma and Dad doing races in the garden – not bad for 2 young at heart folk in their 80’s. A really big thanks to both of them for giving us a really special time in Brum.

 Quality Dad-Daughter time in the garden

 Enjoying narrowboat life

 Dream come true...a real life rabbit :-)

 I can't believe they got me brushing up leaves!

 Watching Bambi with Amma

A walk in the park with Amma and Dad

Food and more food…

Keeping a supreme being energised is no easy feat. They need an incredible amount of nutrition, despite being still pretty tiny. Emily is no exception and can put away a fair bit of scran when on top of her eating game.

 

Caught in a filthy chocolate act

On an average day her daily Hobbit-like diet consists of:

First breakfast: 3 Weetabix
Second breakfast: A third of Daddy’s breakfast of muesli/fruit & fibre plus anything else she can get her hands on
Mid-morning snack: A whole nectarine plus some toast
Lunch: Two slices eggy bread
Mid-afternoon snack: An ice cream plus few handfuls of grapes
Dinner: Adult salmon portion (plus some of Mummy and Daddy’s), potatoes and any greens that end up in her mouth by accident. Followed by upto 4 yoghurts for pudding

The joy of ice cream

Now the more observant amongst you might notice two things. Firstly, the calorific content of the above is not far off what an average adult consumes. It’s incredible, God knows where she puts it all but put it away she does. Secondly, it is a trifle carbohydrate based. Vitamins are not high on our daughters agenda. Indeed most things green are routinely ejected from the plate, so a cunning use of the blender to infuse vitamins into various dishes is required. She also doesn’t drink milk since Mummy put her boobs into retirement, so the yoghurts seem to give her the calcium she needs. 

Still, we shouldn’t complain. She is wonderfully happy, particularly when fully fed. And all that food gives her the energy she needs to run round all day and enjoy life to the full. Now if only we could keep up, then all would be fine…

High as a kite and purple coloured, post bramble picking/eating

 

Face painting with evening yoghurt no.2

 

Clutching at straws...

And so the great Glasgow summer continued in a similar vein. This meant we were really starting to clutch at straws to keep the supreme being entertained. Suggested recipe for success below:

1. Take one supreme being to local Home Bargains (avoiding rainshowers)
2. Empty pocket of change
3. Allow same supreme being to buy bucket of straws with change
4. Return home (avoiding rainshowers)
5. Empty straws all over house and improvise, improvise, improvise

Videoclip: Row, row, row your boat (with straws)

 Videoclip: Straw trumpets

 A glimmer of sun, and the shades are on

Having clutched at one straw too many

The great Glasgow summer...

Glasgow has a good summer once every 7 or 8 years. That might not be a scientifically proven fact and meteorologists might dispute it, but I have been in Glasgow for about 15 years and there have been about 3 good summers in that time. And that is a fact. The last good one was last year, which was a glorious summer all round in Glasgow, which normally prides itself on being the wettest city in the UK.

So this year had up to August been posing somewhat of a dilemma to my evidence-based theory on Glasgow's (not) sunny season, by being a lovely summer for the second year in a row. Impossible the sceptics cried! And so it seems the end of the Commonwealth Games may yet have proved those same sceptics right. August this year has brought with it some more familiar weather, and so we have dug out the wet weather gear and merrily gone back to splashing through the puddles of the great Glasgow summer. The only problem now we have a toddler is that it takes an awfully long time to go anywhere, rain or no pouring rain...

Videoclip: Splashing in the rain

Drying off post-splash

And so sadly we have to find new ways of entertaining ourselves indoors as well as out. But in every threat there is an opportunity, and so we have been trying to explore the supreme being's musical creativity. Now, Mozart made his musical debut when he was 4 and Chopin aged 7, but as a supreme being Emily is set to beat them all, mastering the trumpet and singing her first duet all by the age of 21 months. Not to mention her love of percussion. Drums, bells, xylophone and tambourine - all of these have been mastered and she is currently developing her own one-woman band. So you can imagine our house - a joyful cacophony everyday.

 Make sure your instrument is clear of blockages before playing

And off she goes...Dizzy Gillespie stylee

Videoclip: Debut singing from Mary Poppins

And after a hard day's puddle splashing and musical practice? Nothing can beat a good old fashioned nosh-up and giggle session...Wonderful. That's how to spend the great Glasgow summer.

Videoclip: Post-dinner giggles