Having a walk and getting sore feet

The mornings are bright, sunlight shines through the curtains and it wakes me up. Even if I don't want to wake up I have little choice in the matter. This as well as the pigeons in the roof clattering the tiles on their way out. I thought it was later, but it was just after 6 a.m. and I was up. My room was hot as well. It must be the start of real summer. So hot I was just sleeping ontop with no covers. Trying to get back to sleep was useless so I got up, had some brekky and then decided to hit the road's for a long walk spending about four hours. With a couple of little sit down stops on the way. Damn my feet killed me. If you go walking get proper walking shoes, I can feel the pain now. The sun caught me and my arms are red as well. Burnt arms, tired feet and unable to sleep. The last days of June 2013 disappear. As they do we get closer to Christmas. Which is another thought in itself. One I'd rather not think about.

While out I was amazed at the number of joggers there were. It seems going for a Sunday run is the in thing nowadays. They are of all different ages, even some quite older women. I saw one woman who must of had her husband with her. Except he was not running. He sat on his cycle and kept pace with her. She might not of been going fast but it seems to me to be a lazy thing to do. I could never see Sparkling going for a run, but she'd follow me if she was not wobbly on the bike. I'd be the one doing the hard graft and if we had a hill to go up she'd make me push the bike, probably with her on it. All of a sudden it seem like a bad idea. I must admit though watching all those people out and running made me think back to the time I was a few stone lighter and running myself. I don't think there was anyone today who would of been trouble to beat in a race. I did see one young man, dressed up in fancy running gear and I thought he was a snob. I so wanted to run like a greyhound and show him. Pitty I'm a short fat middle aged man. I'm getting on and it is so much easier not to run but walk, catch a bus or get on a train.

One things for sure, I can't eat chocolate as much as I used to without the consequences. Maybe this I know have a reason to find a pair of trainers. No, I'd rather do it to wipe the smile of arrogant shites thinking they are fit. I rub my jelly like belly and realise even with the greatest will in the world some realities have to be overcome.  Tomorrow, I'll probably get on the train again as well.

Sparkling blows her top

One of the things I absolutely love about Sparkling Eyes is how she expresses her opinion an various matters. She is pretty passionate this way. More so when I am wrong and she is right about something. Which of course I must be wrong even if I "think" I am right.  This I  happens to be the nature of relationships.  Or, of our particular relationship. For no matter how much status I might have in my workplace, which seems like little at times. My status in the Sparkling household is below the Olly the cat.  He will tell anyone this is true.  So at times when I do something without thinking, like for example ask technophobic Sparkling to save a file on her computer, then I am in the wrong because I should know otherwise. It might be because all women are always right and all men are always wrong. However, it was my fault for sending the file to her, even though she asked for it, but didn't know what to do next.  

Sparkling is worth a lot more than she gets paid and she doesn't get paid much. She works behind the bar and kitchen of an establishment.  It is also true in reverse for this saying.  A lot of well paid individuals are not worth their actual paid. Be they politicians, civil servants or private company employees, such as bankers, accountants and sales executives.  Sparkling is smart, she is passionate and she is socialistic. Which may be unfortunate for any person who has the belief they are better than anyone else.  Last night she'd had enough of being spoken to in a demeaning way by those she works for. They have given her a new contract of employment which makes her employment position more tenuous than it has ever been, considering the state of the employment market and the dire position of the economy. So when an individual said to Sparkling her opinion didn't matter, I thought he must of had either a bullet proof vest on or a wish to die. Saying such a thing to Sparkling was waving a red flag in front of a pretty pissed of bull and having nowhere to run. To clarify, Sparkling asked "what did you just say?" Personally I'd of started to apologize at this moment, and thrown in some grovelling.  Being stupid this individual just happened to repeat what he said. An exceedingly stupid thing.   Sparkling then let rip, saying how many bosses she had, how none of them understood or knew how difficult her job was, how she'd got a new contract, how little she got paid and who they did they think they were. The man who did this began to drop his head, he could not even look at Sparkling, like a scolded dog his tail dropped between his legs. I was then informed as the evening went on Sparkling let rip with her pump action shot gun on a number of men who had not given her the respect she very much deserved. 

When I heard what Sparkling said, I felt so happy and proud she took no prisoners, I was choked up. I also know there were people there who witnessed this and were happy she had stood up at last. With nothing to lose other than her job which now those same people had devalued as they had devalued her. 

Myself, I do my best never to wave a red flag in front of Sparkling, but it can't be helped because it's a thing which can be done without knowing it. I'm glad I'm not a dog otherwise there might of been less of body than there is.

The death of Marlon the cat - sad story

So I sat down with a colleague from the Fish Factory and happened to pass a comment about pets and cats. At which she said she had just lost her cat. It had slipped my memory, she asked if I knew and I said no. It might of been a mistake, but she then went on to tell the story.  One weekend she had decided to stay late at work. It was a Saturday and this was unusual for her but she did anyway. Then she returned home, as she approached her house she could see there was a crowd of people outside and wondered what on earth was happening. They were neighbours and passers-by. One said she had bad news. The cat (Marlon) had been attacked by two dogs. There were three dogs but the third had been held back by it's owner. Two men were walking past her house with their dogs. One had a Staff. It saw Marlon sitting outside her house and ran for it. I recall Marlon, I'd seen him once about a year ago when a group of us had been invited over for dinner. He was a beautiful cat. Quite a big ginger, but I could tell he had one of those relaxed happy attitudes, he liked attention and was so, so chilled. If you are a cat lover then you know every cat is different and to own one which is calm and relaxed and caring is beautiful. Marlon was obediently waiting for his mistress to come home and sitting outside his own house was the most natural thing in the world to do. The staff got hold of Marlon in his jaws and shook the cat swinging it from side to side. The two men walking their dogs got to the staff, and they had to prize the dog's jaws open so it would release Marlon. At which Marlon slopped off, Injured and in severe pain down an alleyway beside the houses. The neighbours outside had witnessed this event or some of them had and the others were there as moral support to the witnesses.

My colleage was mortified and in tears, she went down the alleyway to find Marlon. Calling out his name. Some of the neighbours had bought torches and blankets. It was February and had been an exceedingly cold long winter. Where ever the cat was it would be cold, the night was drawing in early. With the search party they went over garden fences from house to house. Some people came out and wondered what had happened. She told them and sympathetically they either helped or assisted in some way. Someone thought they had seen Marlon go to the end of a garden and had likely crawled down a fox-like-hole. She called out, but nothing. The eye witness was sure the cat was in the hole. They'd heard a cat crying out just after the incident. She scrambled amongst the thorns and undergrowth tearing her arms and legs in the brush but could not get to the hole. Going home she called the PDSA and her vet. The vet said they would be on standby for her at any time. The PDSA said they could not do anything until the cat was found. She called her friends and her son who was due home at about 11 p.m., then distraught with worry changed into some thick jeans and a jumper. She went back to the house again with a borrowed torch and pruning sheers and began to cut away at the undergrowth to get to the hole. To get to Marlon. Bit by bit, she got to it. Calling out to Marlon. There was no sound and no movement. Another phone call to the vet and they advised her not to shine a torch at the cat but away from it, otherwise it could go deeper into the hole. Her son turned up.

There was something between her son and Marlon. He was a special pet to her son.  So he tried instead. Rather than shine the torch in the hole or on the ground he shone it at himself and called to Marlon.  At which there was a cry from the hole. The wounded animal slowly clawed its way to the surface. One of it's legs was badly injured to the extent my colleague could not look at it. She scooped Marlon up in a blanket to warm him and immediately whisk him off to the vets. They knew she was coming.

Marlon was in a bad way. She left him with the vet and received a phone call at two a.m. they told her, Marlon would lose a leg, they had managed to warm him up and to sedate him. But they had to operate as well. They didn't know if his bladder was ruptured, they gave her the choice, because of Marlon's injury's it was going to be a difficult operation, or they could put him down. She spoke to her son and he thought they had to try and operate. At five a.m. she had another phone call. Marlon had not pulled through, they had been mostly successful with the operation but he had sustained so many tears to his muscles they were unable to patch him up. Marlon passed away.

As I listened to this conversation I got upset and don't know how I held it together.  Every pet I've known and loved has been very painful to lose. My colleague managed to hunt down both the men who and their dogs involved in this incident. There was a number of descriptions from neighbours and one neighbour had CCTV, so she had images of them. She found their address and reported the entire incident to the police.  Some three months later she sat with the dog owners in a police station and asked them why they left and didn't come back. She asked them if they knew and understood what they had done. How she had rescued Marlon how much she loved him. At first they were defensive but then became apologetic.  I can't believe she was able to hold it together like she had and gone through this process, I'd of felt like killing dog or the owner, doing it of course is a different thing. She kept as calm as possible during the entire interview with police officers present. The dog owners were given a warning, although there was nothing which could be done about the dogs this would be on file. She could of taken these two owners to court and also sued them for veterinary costs.  Thankfully she had insurance.  The dog owners were warned were this to happen again and the incident bought before a judge, given this previous history it would not look good for them or the dogs.

Marlon now sits in the front room and she wonders now what to do with his ashes.  The companionship and friendship he had once provided is lost and remembered every day.

Out of control and crap handling

I have been in a ratty mood this evening, it proves I am only human, but I try to edge it with humour however it may still come out as ratty. It wasn't great news when I was told my 13 year old Monster Boy I looked funny. He said the way I dress made me look funny. The week before he'd likened me to Mr Bean, which he's done a number of times. I try to hold in my moans and let them voice like I'm being droll. Possibly funny, but I don't know how it comes out.  So a barely teenage kid has me cringing.  I'd of rather been likened to Claude van Dam, but this is highly unlikely in any circumstances.

At the Fish Factory I've got to feeling everything is out of control as well. I can't control the fishes below me and just let them get on with it. Moreover I am resigned to them doing stuff. I don't know if it is a trait which seems like I'm easy going or I just have no influence over anyone. It pisses me off when they pass crap to me they should be able to deal with.  I got enough of my own crap yet to deal with theirs.  If I owned a dog, I'd probably be trained by the dog.  My Big Fish boss is always telling me what to do and I sit there thinking to myself, does this person know how many piles of crap I already have to deal with? Even though I will try and tell them they could be on another planet. Maybe they are, the planet which is called " I Don't Give a Damn"  Perhaps if they cared then I'd get less work. Yet more comes my way.  I'm getting so much crap thrown at me I'm starting to think I should be called either the crap dodger or the crap handler.  I can see my dog now having a great big shit and my  picking it up. Which was something I  was required to do for Sparkling's dog.  I loved him but he was one Olympic champion crapper, like all dogs he ate anything he could, even though he was never starved.  In his later days he'd take himself out for a walk. Just wonder down the road to the chip shop and look sad so people would give him chips.  I think he knew exactly what he was doing.  He was sure happy though when he saw me, I guess he was thinking here comes my crap collector.

There has been an explosion in BLOG views. It's a blog I wrote over a year ago where Sparkling was strangling me.  It seems to be getting read by a lot of German's. They must have a thing for women who strangle men.  Lonely, crap picking, crap dodging, crap dealing, funny looking men. Well at least I'm not German, which would be taking the piss.  After all they don't have much in the way of a sense of humour I'm led to believe. I'm sure it can't be true. Maybe there is some kinky thing going on. They put in a search on the web and they get one of my BLOGs. Hell, what a disappointment it must be. Thankfully I'm not German. Mind the worst thing in the world would be German and a crap dodger. Some place in Germany there is a man just like me. Well, at least this thought cheers me up.

Listening to yourself and balancing on a tight rope

Today at the Fish Factory I was thrown as referee between two parties. It was like a tug of war into one direction and then into the other one.  I don't like this aspect of the job especially as one individual was trying to defer their responsibility on me, they were hopping all over the place. From one stone to another and then throwing projectiles at me. Whereas the other individual put up a shield of doubt as to what the first was saying. They were on the defensive but their voice had to be heard as my job role meant this person's interesting was my primary concern.  I eventually got to some kind of decision on the matter and will be rang up again in the next few days when yet I'll have to make another decision and do my refereeing role all over again. Right now I know what my decision is going to be, one of these parties is going to have to relent and that's it.

In the meantime, the big fish sits behind me and has overheard the conversations I've been thrown into all afternoon. The big fish already has a set of priorities they want me to get on with yet because of everything else, those priorities are not being met. It is definitely like a rock and a hard place.  Whatever happens I'll be knocked from one place to another. Those priorities are unrealistic. It's very much the climate of the UK at the moment. Wring the little fishes out so tightly you do get blood from a stone. Everything is temporary. No matter how much these pressures and stresses are put on me it's really about keeping my own cool head and retaining some kind of control. Something which will retract me back to a calm and relaxed place.  It's about getting a grip. 

This is where Dave Allen's principle of "recording" everything which has to be done in some way is important. The way it is recorded has to be more reliable than your own brain because your own brain is fallible and liable to forget. I've been trying to do this a lot lately and am finding it is helping. As the IT system in the Fish Factory is unreliable, I've gone backward and use a notepad and mechanical pencil.  In fact of all my tools at the fish factory, the most important of all are this mechanical pencil and pad.  Without them things would be more difficult. However, this is not all. Others are the use of my own head and listening to what the little fishes say.  From LEAN management and engaging management styles solutions are generated from the ground upwards.  It is always when big fish make decisions which effect smaller fish things go wrong and problems pop up. Time and time again I always see it.  Confering with those involved always raises items of interest. Just as doing a trial run of something.  The biggest errors happen when the experts are not listened to, and those are the ones doing the job.

Consequently the exert of me, can only be me.  It's always about listening to yourself and how you feel, reasoning and expressing this. A caveat to this is knowing you have to stop and listen. There are things which happen inside my own head I don't know about because it's all a jumble. Then from nowhere a feeling or thought pops up and I don't understand why.  It's all in the unconscious.  Similar to dreams. Waking up, remembering that strange dream and then trying to interpret it.  This same thing happens in conscious waking life as well.  To find a happy settled place its a matter of finding the point of balance.  I heard on the radio about a man who recently tight rope walked across part of the Grand Canyon. He described the most difficult part was coping with the wind. He had no safety harness when he did this stunt.  During the entire walk he concentrated on the wind and the variable effects it had on both his own body and the rope which was a steal cable.  Had he not listened with every ounce of will and counteracted appropriately he wouldn't of been around to tell the story.

Maybe what I'm saying is, your own mental well being in a stressful environment is open to checks and balances. To coping strategies which you have to put in place. For at the end of the day a comfortable padded room is very nice, but not if you're locked inside it.

Happy 21st Birthday to Rock Chick

I took my laptop to the pub after work, I had an important appointment. It was to see Sparkling Eyes, Rock Chick and Babyfro. Today Rock Chick is 21 years old. After waiting about an hour I eventually decided to Skype and got through. An earlier Skype call had been rejected as Babyfro was feeding. She is eating and peeing and pooping continuously. It has been a little over a week since I last saw her but again she looks different. Wow, how babies grow day by day. Especially when you don't get a chance to see them. The call got through and I chatted to Sparkling who looked very happy, she had put up some bunting for Rock Chick. I then got to chat to Rock and saw Babyfro. She was tired and had one eye just a little open. I asked Rock if she'd ever thought on her 21s birthday she'd be having a quiet night in with her baby and maybe watching a movie. She didn't think so and had rather considered she'd of been having a party. Like Sparkling, Rock Chick saw her self on cam and had to adjust the camera angle, because it wasn't to her liking. I could see Rock Chick was happy though, a kind of contented look was on her face. Perhaps this was to do with the fact she might be the baby food machine, but it was Daddy Dangerous who was the major poop, nappy changer. She seemed to think she got off lightly earlier in the day, when Babyfro had filled a nappy with a right stinker. This seems to be the thing babies do, feed, pee, poo and very slowly interact with the world. Momma Rock is definitely Dangerous Daddy is so hands on. Awwwe.  Dangerous poopman Daddy lol.  Which is a lot different from doing stunts on a BMX bike, rock climbing, or skateboarding tricks. Dangerous is getting to grow and mature to the nth degree.  In no time he'll have got the art of stinky nappy changing off to a fine art.

So Rock Chick, a very wonderful happy birthday to you, I miss you all and go and treat yourself to a glass of wine, I'm sure you deserve one.

Sparkling on my monitor, a malaise of IT and missing family

Sparkling Eyes has text me to say she missed me.  I miss her a lot as well, for me the worst pangs come about a week after seeing her, I end up hugging myself in bed. Like a security blanket, wishing Sparkling was there as well. A small way to over come this missing feeling has been through the odd chat on Skype. I get to see Sparkling and I just can't help myself, to see she is actually there in front of me on the monitor. Sparkling says every time I am on Skype I have a cheesy grin. I can't help myself and even have to give her a wave. Heck, I'm nearly fifty and I have to do this when on camera. It's like being on TV. I don't know why but I'm not sure if I actually like the Skype program, I am nearly convinced it was loading Skype which led to my laptop getting infected with pop over price comparison windows every five seconds when I was surfing. So I use it sparingly and because I really do miss Sparkling.

As I am a little behind with the IT crowd it has been difficult for me to adjust and understand this Skype thing.  I don't have WiFi either so the wifi I use is the free one from the pub.  Window's 7 is new to me and the operating system of my laptop, yet Windows 8 has recently come out.  My home PC is old, knackered and held together with cellotape. I've been running Windows XP off it for years and I love the responsiveness of XP which you just don't get with the 64 bit Professional Windows 7.  I'm convinced Microsoft brings out products which are in advance of the hardware needs. Windows 3.11 was a prime example, using a graphic interface and PCs at that time were suddenly very slow, whereas if they ran on DOS they were a lot faster. Sometimes going forward is actually a step backwards and it's better to wait a couple of years till the next version comes out. I was in a shop only earlier today and saw a tablet, I will admit to being impressed with it, so it may be time to think about one. It would certainly be a lot easier to carry about, but only if it works. I want functionality first.

I've finished today's practice on my ukulele. It was weird. Afterwards I felt like I wanted to strap the thing to my back, carry it about everywhere I go and use it at every opportunity I could. It wouldn't matter where. When I used to exercise I got a natural high, it's almost like this now with my ukulele. Harvey is holding his tuning pretty well and we are getting more and more attached.  But he is a substitute for Sparkling Eyes, Rock Chick, Babyfro, Dangerous and all my other extended family in Scotland. I miss you all very much.

Gandolfini is dead

There was some sad news today, the actor James Gandolfini died of a heart attack while on holiday in Italy.  He played the primary character in the American TV series about gangsters called The Sopranos. I did watch a few episodes and must admit to liking the ones I saw. Gandolfini was loved as an actor and also because of the respect he gave everyone no matter what part they played, he treated all those he met with dignity. It will be a shame, but saying this he was a bit porky. Around the waist line so to speak.  I did see him recently in a musical called Romance and Cigarettes playing opposite Susan Saradon and Kate Winslett.  Which for a musical I liked as well. Especially when I normally consider watching musical stuff as gay.

Gandolfini was 51 years old. In the film I saw he smoked cigarettes profusely and died of cancer at the end. I guess he must of smoked in real life as well. He was overweight, and he obviously fell into the group of men who are likely to pop their clogs prematurely. I reflect on this prospect as 51 years is less than a stone's throw from my present age.  It makes me think I should be re-evaluating my lifestyle. Eating healthy, exercising more, losing weight, there's a good tyre round my own waist. I've finished a cup of tea and biting into a triple chocolate Swiss roll. For lunch it was beef in black bean sauce and ho fun. A very oily Chinese dish, but tasty. If I stand back and take a look at the set of cards I'm looking at, I'd be shaking my head and wondering if this fella was going to bluff it or fold, he could win or he could just drop dead. I know what I should do, but doing it is not so easy. Even though I have been out doing some kind of exercise three times this week, it's the eating bit which has to be tackled as well.

Sparkling Eyes reminds me she loves me and I should think of the future, think of Babyfro and Sparkling. Just as Sparkling has taken up the e-cigarette to quench her smoking habit. I should, I know I should. Gandolfini's death is now like the sword of Damocles. (Damn the sword).  Just waiting to be released. Oh well, there is one event none of us can escape from, and it's more a matter of how long we can stay alive. Or a matter of staying alive with your own marbles and knowing people you can get on with or haven't pissed off enough they don't talk to you any more. Knowing truly a lot of old people are shall I say engrossed in their own eccentricities.

I liked Gandolfini as an actor, I never got to meet him but the way he played his rolls, how he delivered himself on screen would suggest he'd of been an interesting person to talk to over lunch. Hell, I wouldn't want to talk to him while on the treadmill, he would of sweated and stank a bit, as all fat people do when they over exercise. Note to self, get some deodorant summer's on it's way.

Doing something because I like it

A long time ago I used to play badminton. It was a few years ago and it's a pretty energetic game. I loved the game with a passion, I loved everything about it. The speed, the stamina required and the chess like strategy required. Except there was one think I recognised, after reaching a certain standard I got no better. My back hand stroke was just not any good. I practised over and over again but when playing I just could not pull it off. It didn't work at all. This was frustrating, so many points were lost because it was used as my weakness by other players. They could pick it up if savvy enough. Then there were times when I could of used it and scored a few points, but couldn't because it does not exist. Eventually there was only one solution, just to accept I would not get any better, this was an obstacle which would be there. I'd try again and again even knowing this, however, it didn't matter. It didn't matter I lost games. What mattered was I just enjoyed playing badminton.

So it has now been a few months of playing the ukulele and I'm wondering if this is a similar pursuit. I love playing this little instrument, it gives me a kick, I can't reach some of the more difficult chords, I can't sing and I have a problem with timing. Counting, strumming and singing at the same time is a difficult thing to do.  I am old, I marvel at how youngster who play instruments in bands are able to pick up this complex process. They do it so well. As the ukulele does not require a great deal of physical fitness this will likely mean I'll keep playing this wonderful instrument for some time to come. Then who's to say this old chestnut isn't cracked, or roasted or devoured shortly afterwards.

The lesson I've learnt is patience, perseverance and it don't matter if I'm no good at it just as long as it brings me fun, and it also seems to bring those people around me fun as well. I know of one person who finds it very funny.

Champion Wii golf record set by yours truly

Somewhere in Scotland there is a Wii gaming machine which has my character on it, it holds the record for golf at one under par. I'll not print my character's name because it could cause the faint at heart to faint. Just to say it was thought up by L & B man and isn't kindly. But it don't matter to me because on this occasion L & B man's Wii box has my name on it and there is nothing he can do to get rid off it, until he beats my score. Fantastic, and tough shit.

I was invited up to L & B's house to keep him company, or rather to get me out and about from doing the normal set of chores Sparkling has listed while she is working.  Except I wasn't given any chores this time round and left to my own devices. So to get away from my own company for an evening I played golf of the less strenuous kind and enjoyed a drink. I don't know where it come from but on this occasion I was on top form. Doing shots I'd never done before. OK on some holes I made a few mistakes, but overall I was consistently below part. On one hole I pulled off a put which seemed impossible.  All the time L & B man could not believe what was happening. He was having a bad round. The verbal abuse which spouted from his gob was a sign of not liking being beat. After all I'm supposed to be the idiot, but even idiots have their day in the amenity room.  L & B man said I had trodden in a rather big pile of shit.  He thought I had not only trodden in it but probably jumped up and down in it. He couldn't believe how lucky I was. I told him it wasn't luck, it was a matter of skill. He shook his head in disbelief and accused me of farting and putting him off his swing. It was true, I did fart, but so what, he farts as well and they are just as bad. Well maybe not, but they are quite bad. So with pride my character on his Wii games consul stands proud with the course record, read it and weep big boy, I'm the champion.

As L & B has said before "get over it." 

Happiness is a break from it all

I've been back at the Fish Factory now for two days, and I must admit the happy feeling I get from being away on a break is still there. Two weeks with Sparkling and it's as if the world is a completely different place. Which can only be good for me and anyone around me. I've even been telling jokes. So if stressed take a break and re connect with the important things in your life. Whether this is family, friends or a hobby, like playing the ukulele. It will work wonders. Mark my words, underline them and then highlight them, in a bright happy colour.

The Trout don't bite and Babyfro begins training

It seems I am not a natural fisherman. But this is not solely my own inability it also goes for L & B man and Dangerous Sports Lad. The other day we spent a total of 7 and a half hours sitting by a fishery and didn't catch a single thing between us. Unless you happen to count sun burn. Odd how the times when I listen to other people results in some damage to myself. Sparkling said to put shorts on, so I did, and now from the knees to my ankles there is red skin. I wouldn't mind but I usually warn Sparkling about putting on sun screen. Maybe I'm a hypocrite, well we all are to a certain extent. The fish didn't care, they just didn't bite at all. I sat there and intensely concentrated on my float but it didn't tug downwards at all. On the say so of a friend L & B man said we should use crickets, apparently trout love the taste of them. On this day they didn't. I am beginning to think it is all to do with the sun. On hot sunny days trout prefer to hide away and not come out to play. There they stay at the bottom of the pond playing checkers, and the really intelligent ones who will not get caught no matter what play chess. I saw a heron eat a couple of trout as well. I bet the heron didn't have to pay for the privilege of fishing. The owners of the fish pond must make a lot of money from idiots sitting on the banks not catching a thing. Although a quite day Dangerous seemed to enjoy it immensely, he may even take up the sport. Which could be a little out of character for someone called Dangerous. Mind he seemed to be interested in extreme fishing and had caught a few episodes of a TV program about it. He departed his knowledge freely, even though it was his first time out with a rod. Watching TV didn't improve his ability to catch trout. However, it was noticeable how a number of Polish fishermen were having a bit more luck than us. Sporadically throughout the day they caught fish. I guess fish like people who speak with a foreign language, it puts them into a kind of false sense of security, at which they then take the bait. Think I'll have to get the Polish phrase book out and eat Pierogi. 

I have held the beautiful Babyfro in my arms, then walked around with her from room to room. I talked to her and she listened, after a short while she cried and I handed her to Dangerous to attend to her needs. Baby is such a contented little princess, although I know Rock Chick is suffering from lack of sleep, effectively Babyfro is training her parents. She cries, poops, pees, vomits, feeds, sleeps, and continues this cycle on a regular basis. She can sense her mum and her dad because when held by them she goes quiet, quicker and is content. It is early days and I am amazed how every day I see her she looks different. She grows and develops rapidly, becoming less and less new baby looking squiggy.  When I head back to London the next time I get to see baby she will be able to lift her head and start to give pleasant cooing sounds. Already Dangerous has adapted his speach patterns and sounds like he is a baby talking translator.  He'll probably go out and get a degree in it. I have a suspicion though some of his sounds come from a Star Wars character. Rock reframes from doing these noises as she's likely not such a big fan of Star Wars.  Rock is now a full time mum and is very happy.  She's mummy Rock.  How quickly they grow up. It seems like only yesterday Rock Chick was in primary school herself. Time will pass and she'll look back and will think the same.

Sparkling Eyes is going to be known as Ga Ga. Sparkling has a natural bond with Baby as well. She has been telling baby princess stories and making them up as she goes along. Baby just stares at her and is all agog completely entranced. I'm a bit like this, and then get told to get on with wiring a new socket, mowing the lawn, or hoovering up. It must be the Sparkling spell. Rock will has this talent with Dangerous, and so she should. Dangerous is outnumbered now by gender, he has two princesses to keep sweet. Another thing for sure is when Rock and baby put their heads together, Dangerous will not just be outnumbered he'll also be played with like a kitten plays with a ball of wool.