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Saturday 2nd July 2005
Yes, so for those following the M**** saga . . . she gave birth this morning at about 9:38 I think it was. It was a boy . . . or at least we think it was. So, erm . . . there you go. HA! Only kidding. Still, it could have happened. I was saying to M****, though, "I should put on my web-site that you've given birth but, er, there was something wrong, so they had to take the baby away. Say, erm . . . it was completely transparent, save for its lungs . . . something like that. Well, it was twins. That was one of them. The other one was quite small, and had skin like mercury . . . quicksilver. And it spoke fluent Mandarin. They kept that one too. All very odd . . . but, hey . . . You live and learn," but I decided against doing that. Probably just as well. M**** says Archie has grown. That's a picture of him up there. Probably hard to tell whether he has grown or not. There's no frame of reference, damn it. No scale. Yeah, yeah.
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Sunday 3rd July 2005
Foetus . . . but then last night, trying to go to sleep, I was wondering (as I often have) what would be the most surreal thing (or things) to give birth to. The last thing I remember before falling asleep was a litter (?!) of miniature (say, two to three inches wide) Sinclair ZX81's with perhaps at Oric Atmos (?!) thrown in for good measure. None of these would be solid, but rather constructed of some kind of rubbery, plastic stuff. Upon closer examination, the keyboards wouldn't be quite right. The letter Q would be to the right of the W and would be more like a U with a line over the top (but with the diagonal bit at the bottom right, of course). The A would have two horizontal lines through the middle. X would just be missing. Some of the other characters would be completely unrecognisable. Each computer would have a slightly different keyboard. Probably just as well that I fell asleep at that point. Oh, at time of writing (but clearly no longer), no pages on the internet feature the words quicksilver, foetus and ZX81. This is according to Google, naturally. Perhaps when the Google bot next visits my web-site, all that will change. Oh, and that image is Simon angle-grinding (or ankle-grinding if you're M****) those awful remnants of a banisters from my walls. There were a few bits of metal left behind, see. They must have been plastered over or something.
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Monday 4th July 2005
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So, yes . . . Today is the average of the two dates M**** was given. The expected delivery dates. I mention this as I seem to have had a hell of a lot of visitors here today, so I figure most of the visitors were looking for M****-related news. Here as in the web-site, not my home or anything tangible. But for those wondering . . . no, nothing yet. Shame, really. 4th July would have been ideal. I refer of course to the gorgeous Beach Boys song. Ah well.
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Tuesday 5th July 2005
Erm . . . let me see now. Nope. Nothing yet. Place bets now. NOW!
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Wednesday 6th July 2005
Hmmmm, so that was odd. It was about 12:40, I went to get a sandwich from Ainsley's and then went back to work. Only instead of going straight back to work, I thought I would walk around my workplace, just around the perimeter of the building. There was no reason for doing this. None at all. Yet whilst walking along some part of my brain insisted on applying reason to my actions, insisting that I needed a five minute break from work and the walk would do you good, all this rubbish. Some part of me seemed to have a problem with doing something for no reason. How weird. I might have to try this experiment again. Erm, yeah . . . but otherwise . . . no news on the M**** front. Foetus, you have been evicted. Please make your way to the nearest birthing canal. Foetus, you have been evicted. Please make your way to the nearest birthing canal . . . ad nauseum.
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Thursday 7th July 2005
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Any news yet? Yes, the software patent bill has been rejected by the European Parliament (I wrote this at about 08:35 this morning). Thank god. Oh, and M****'s pregnant, apparently.
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and then . . . in the evening, we thought we might mosey on over to the Cow and Calf in Ilkley. These pictures were taken at (left to right) 19:29, 19:35, 19:57 and 19:57 (again). That's M**** in the second picture from the left. M**** was sick of being in the house, and thought a walk around Ilkley Moor might 'set things going'. No such luck. So, we had a meal at the pub there and then went back home, stopping via an off-license in Ilkley for urgent supplies.
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Struck me recently how much this kitten of ours has grown. Thus, I tried to take a picture to convey this (note the shoe - this has been in previous pictures; it's about a size 10 or 11, I can't remember which). The damn thing wouldn't keep still, of course. So I set the shutter speed as quick as it would go and took dozens of pictures. Eventually he was still for long enough. But, yeah . . . I guess when we first got Archie, he would fit in the palm of your hand, so I suppose he has grown. Weird. I'm kinda of tempted now to fill in the following days with the default entry: "No news," not that people would expect to hear it here first anyway, but hey . . . probably no point. And here's a video of Archie.
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Friday 8th July 2005
No news as such, but Google has at last found me. So that's cool. Although I noticed if you do a Google search for Jonathan and M**** my web-site comes up as well. So, yeah . . .
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Saturday 9th July 2005
No news. Oh, and for those people who keep sending me text messages (SMS): I've recently bought a mobile telephone with a contract (monthly tariff). My present mobile (pay-as-you-go) has run out of credit, so I cannot reply to any text messages at the moment. As soon as the new tariff kicks in, I'll retain the same number (albeit on a new SIM card) and be able to send text messages. So there you go. Hope that clears that one up. I've chosen to go over to a monthly tariff as I've recently discovered that peak calls to, well, anywhere are prohibitively expensive on pay-as-you-go, and one of the main reasons I have a mobile phone is to make phone calls during these 'peak' times. You see? You see? Another two minute silence? How many do we need? And why do these things annoy me so much? The only period of silence I've ever understood is the one to commemorate Armistice Day (do we still call it that?). A moments reflection to acknowledge the sacrifices others made so that we might enjoy the freedoms we enjoy today. That makes sense to me. Not to belittle in any way the undeniably tragic things that occur in the world today, but why another two minutes silence? Crazy. I don't understand why our government makes such suggestions. Is that wrong of me?
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Sunday 10th July 2005
When immersed in liquid, a dead sparrow will make a sound like a crying baby.
Hello? Wow - this is interesting. One of my lesser ambitions (there are many) is to create an e-mail containing dozens of statements like, "A cockroach is effectively paralysed for 43 seconds if you sneeze on it during a full moon," or maybe, "Carlos Santana had two toe nails growing on his left big toe," stuff like that, and for that e-mail to be circulated and forwarded en masse as gospel truth. One can dream. |    
I must have written that bit up there in the hours of the morning. Following a bit of sleep, M**** and I did a bit of hoovering and cleaning around (there's always some of this to do). M****'s dad, Mark, came over for the afternoon so, after some coffee, we drove in convey over to Bolton Abbey, so thereabouts. Our first destination was, erm . . . the Devonshire Arms Hotel . . . somewhere near Addingham. We had lunch there and then went for a walk, following the River Wharfe, and ending up at Bolton Abbey. These are what all these pictures are of, you see.
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. . . and more pictures of Bolton Abbey and stuff. It was extremely hot that day and, not having any sun-block, or a sun-hat, I was spending small amounts of time in the sun, and then running to a spot of shade (it paid off - no sun burn). That might explain some of the weird shots. Well, it explains the fourth one from the left in the first set of photos - that was taken from within shade.
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more images . . . after wandering around Bolton Abbey a bit, we went back to the Devonshire Arms (so that was where the picture of the sunglasses occurred, see . . . you might be able to make out the reflection of my camera in those) for one last drink before heading our separate ways . . . Mark in a Lancaster direction, M**** and I in a Leeds direction. I haven't said when any of these pictures were taken. I used to do loads of that. Left to right then: 17:09, 17:10, 17:20, 17:30, 17:34 and 18:37. So there you go.
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Monday 11th July 2005
Anna's birthday today. Happy birthday, Anna, wherever you are. Thailand? So anyway . . . in the evening, my university assignment now complete, M**** and I drove into town, had dinner at Nando's and then caught a film at, erm, The Light . . . Ster Century or whatever it's called. Yeah - Ster Century. The film we watched was "Mr. and Mrs. Smith". M**** enjoyed it. I did try to point out the other films: Kung Fu Hustle, Sin City, The Descent, but it was all to no avail.
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Tuesday 12th July 2005
I don't think a great deal happened today. Did it? Anyone? Nah. Ah well. M**** gave birth (via induction), but apart from that . . . nope. M****'s asked me to remove the falsehoods from this entry. I don't think I have.
What am I on about? Loads of stuff happened today (erm . . . kind of). It was Paul's (from work) birthday, so we all went to Bar Home for a drink or two. Before that, I had to go to Leeds train station to get some money from the cash point. And, yeah . . . ain't no crime going on in there, as there's at least four armed police officers standing by. Fingers near the trigger, but not actually on the trigger. Probably with the safety on as well, although I didn't look that closely. So, yeah . . . Loads of weird stuff was going on over in Hyde Park, just off Woodsley Road, near the mosque. They kept saying Burley or Burley District in the media, but it is soooooo Hyde Park. Didn't really affect things over here, barely half a mile away. Later on, I'm on my door-step, sipping my gin and tonic, reading the Metro, and I have my first ever conversation with my neighbour, Trevor. How weird's that? We were mainly going on about the, erm . . . heightened security situation and the stuff over in Woodsley Road. blah blah blah. Hey, we should have a bet: how many crazy, Draconian, democracy-crushing laws will now be passed unopposed through the Commons in order to 'tackle terrorism'? I said this to M****, kind of half-joking.
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Wednesday 13th July 2005
 
For those of you who read yesterday's entry and believed that M**** had given birth, here's some lovely pictures of clouds. I took these not long after I got back from work, as . . . well, there wasn't much else to do. Cycling back from work tonight, there were some seriously weird cloud formations - two shapes that looked a bit like upside down tornados (or do I mean hurricane? I always get the two mixed up). I collected my camera from home, and went straight out again, but by the time I had found a good vantage point, the shapes had dissipated too much. Ah well. Kinda pretty anyway. M**** and I are off to the hospital tomorrow. We want the baby out.
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Thursday 14th July 2005
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Ah well, the birth-date looms ever closer. Contraction-like things have begun, although we don't really think these are proper contractions. Too irregular and not painful enough for that. At the hospital, they did the usual thing with the two microphone-like devices strapped to M****'s belly, monitoring heart-beats, contractions and activity (producing what the doctor, Ashley, referred to as a perfect trace). Erm . . . what else? Oh yeah . . . they did this 'stretch and sweep' thing, which sounds like some kind of puppet show . . . It's not a pupper show, though (although that would kind of fit it in with the 'show', if you follow). Go look it up on Google or something. Suffice to say, after that, the doctor reckoned things should be moving along pretty swiftly within the next 48 hours and that intervention may not even be necessary.
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Update (20:54): So, anyone wondering about M**** and the on-coming labour. Just these mild, preliminary contractions still going on . . . The mid-wife didn't seem to think they were proper contractions yet, though. We got the TENS machine all wired up and stuff. It could be a long night . . . Oh, and I won the bid for my Arena OU1 microphone. Curiously enough, (small world and all that) the microphone is coming from Promenade Music in Morecambe. This is where my granny (it was originally her piano) picked up loads of her sheet music. Well, slightly curious, I thought.
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It was probably around 10pm that M****'s fellow birthing partner (her mother) appeared. Helen and Stu. Helen was there throughout most of the, er . . . labour. Stu had a gig on Friday night, but came back on Saturday morning.
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Friday 15th July 2005
Looks like the contractions are calming down now (well, during the afternoon, perhaps). Maybe the window of opportunity has passed. We've still no idea whether abduction/induction will be needed or not. I'll keep yer posted. A few hours of sleep snatched here and there. I think that was cafetiere (sp.?!) number two up there (or maybe to the left . . . somewhere anyway). There's probably no sense of scale, but it's a mini cafetiere so it only holds a single mug.
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M**** didn't get much (if any) sleep last night due to the pain and discomfort caused by the contractions. TENS machine was set as high as M**** could cope with, but M**** found it necessary to switch from pulse mode to continuous mode when the contractions peaked (still roughly every five minutes); hence, she had to stay awake to operate the TENS machine.
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The labour had now entered day two (well, as far as M**** and I were concerned; medical staff would insist 'established labour' had not yet begun) and, during the evening, the contractions now getting ever more painful and uncomfortable (frequency and duration still pretty much the same . . . we kept timing them . . . sometimes three minutes apart, sometime six . . . sometimes lasting 30 seconds, sometimes lasting a minute), we made a trip to the hospital, to see what was going on. Naturally, this involved an internal examination. I think M**** was still 3cm dilated at this point. The delivery rooms were all occupied so even if something had happened that night, the delivery would have had to take place there and then, rather than in a private room designed for such things. I felt sorry for the girl opposite: obviously in a lot of pain (I think I heard 5cm dilation mentioned), but facing the option of giving birth in a busy hospital ward. We were seriously considering going over to St. James's Hospital, but this would involve taking a mid-wife from the Clarendon Wing. As time went by that night, it became obvious that nothing was going to happen for a long time yet. All the mid-wives could think of doing for M**** was to offer her pethidine (sp.?!), as the labour wasn't established enough to allow for an epidural. The pethidine, I think, would have meant staying on the ward all night (for observation, possibly). M**** refused the pethidine and we went home . . . I may have slept for an hour or two, but I don't think M**** was able to sleep at all.
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Saturday 16th July 2005
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Erm . . . today was a long day. As I've already said in the previous day's entry, sleep wasn't really a feature of last night. Contractions now coming thick and fast. Now with a delivery room available, Helen dropped M**** and I off at the hospital, along with all our bags and stuff. Epidural time. So the epidural was done some time early afternoon, I believe. After that, the pair of us were able to snatch a few hours of sleep here and there. Later on that day, the mid-wife had to inform M**** that she was fully dilated as she would otherwise have had no way of knowing. The down-side to all of this is that M**** was now unable to walk and, even with the epidural out, the effects of the drug would take a few days to wear off.
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Probably around 7 to 8pm (not exactly sure when), M****'s pain had pretty much gone, full dilation was several hours off, and so Helen and Stu came up to the hospital. The hospital rules state that only one visitor (either partner or nominated birthing partner) can be with M**** at any one time. In order to let Helen stay with M**** for a bit, I swapped places and Stu and I went to a nearby pub. Goes without saying: mobile phone was on and awaiting any news.
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Sunday 17th July 2005
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A quick, picture-less (because, oh yes, there are many pictures) update: A****** (Alexandre? or whatever . . . we're pretty happy with A****** though) was finally born at 00:22 this morning. Breathing began an agonising minute or two after that. He was pulled out with forceps (following an episiotomy), heart beating and everything, but just wasn't breathing. Fortunately, with the help of four assistants, this was quickly sorted out and then he was rushed to the, erm . . . special care unit. Something like that. Oh . . . his weight. I forgot about that. 4060 grammes, which is slightly over 8lb 15oz. Yes, indeed. So that means a lot of the 'new born' clothing will have to go back, of course. But, anyway, to cut a long story short, everything's pretty much okay now. The main problem for M**** was the after-effects of the epidural and the lack of sleep (must have been close to 72 hours with only a few hours sleep here and there), but the side-effects are quickly wearing off, and sleep is now possible. Right. That'll do for now. If you're wondering why the web-site's been down for so long, we had M****'s mum and boyfriend (Stu) stay over, so thus the computer had to be shut-down to reduce noise. Oh, and one final thing: if you're reading this, thinking, "Why didn't I get a text message like everyone else did?" then this is probably because I simply don't (or didn't) have your mobile number stored in my mobile phone. Also, at that point, there were other things on my mind, of course. I tried to notify most people for whom I had numbers for in my mobile phone, but my apologies if I forgot anyone.
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I keep thinking of extra bits of information . . . if you're reading this and able and wanting to visit M**** in hospital, please check with me first. See, M**** may have to stay on the ward for a couple of days (perhaps leaving Wednesday) in order to recover from the ordeal and catch up on sleep. M**** asked me to convey this request as she is currently catching up on several days of sleep. What sleep she can get may, of course, be interrupted occasionally by the need to feed A******, so we're just keen to ensure M**** gets loads of rest and recuperation whilst she can. Use of mobile phones is prohibited in the ward, but M**** has this freaky telephone/television/radio thing on which she can make and receive calls - again, contact me and I'll let you know if M****'s okay with people contacting her on that. THANKS!
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Sorry - I lied up there. There are pictures after all. I haven't had a chance to look through these yet and decide if any are surplus to requirements. And, yes - I know what you're thinking: that is indeed ginger hair. We're currently unsure as to whether or not it's curly. I own a set of clippers. But, to expand a bit (now that I have some time and there so many comments for this entry) . . . that first picture was taken at 01:26, from the special care unit (or whatever it's called). He was kept there for a while, just for observation. The next picture along was taken at 03:47, A****** now back in the delivery suite with M**** and I (I think . . . it's all a bit confusing exactly when and where everyone was). Then there's the blurry picture of me, taken at 07:58. I've no idea what happened about sleep. I think M**** and I may have caught up on a hour or so whilst in the delivery suite (I remember I could sleep in the chair there, but not in the one in the ward on D-floor). The next picture along . . . and much later . . . the one with A****** in a cot with both hands by his mouth . . . that was taken at 16:39. I had popped home for a few hours sleep, thinking M****'s mum would be able to get into the ward to help out with M****. When I awoke, on discovering that M****'s own mother (bearing food and drinks) had been refused entry to M**** and child, I hurried to the hospital seething with rage. Fortunately, there was no mid-wife nearby, otherwise I may have said or done something . . . wrong. Seeing A****** in his cot, with the strange, glowing tent thing around him . . . well, I kind of calmed down a bit. The rest of the pictures . . . well, the one of M**** is my personal favourite, taken at 20:06. Her expression kind of says it all, really. Don't let anyone ever tell you that giving birth is easy. Prepare for the worst. Oh, and take a good book: "You Are Here", by Bremner, Bird and Fortune, for example.
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Monday 18th July 2005
Just a quick update . . . Well, firstly, and most importantly (I'm joking): looks like today was a record in terms of 'real' hits; that is, hits made my humans as oppose to surf-bots or whatever they're called. So that's good. I'm tempted to say, "Well, now that I finally have your attention, let us begin . . . " but I don't really know what I would mean by that, so I won't say that. Hmmmm. Yes. M**** and A****** seem pretty much fine now. By the time you read this, M****'s blood transfusion (three units) will probably be complete and we're told that following a transfusion, one tends to perk up fairly quickly. A****** is doing pretty much what any normal baby would do in that position: eating, sleeping and filling his nappy up. Archie, on the other hand, has gone completely crazy. I think he's used to having M**** around all day, and then me around in the evening. But all that's changed recently, and he's only coming into contact with another human (me) in the morning and the evening. When I get back fairly late at night, after he's eaten, he just runs around like some crazy, manic, possessed . . . erm . . . kitten . . . leaping at my foot/hand/elbow/knee/head/body as I try to make my way from room to room . . . or even if I'm just sat there, minding my own business. Poor thing. Ah well . . . things should be back to some semblance of 'normality' by the weekend.
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Tuesday 19th July 2005
    
Today M**** had some kind of scan (we have our suspicions why the extreme thoroughness here; the scan was necessary to eliminate possibility of some kind of clot within M****'s innards) . . . I think initially they were saying it would be some kind of ultrasound thing, but then they changed their mind and thought a computerised tomographic scan would be better. I think they call these CTs for short. I had a few of these myself one time, but I was a different person then. Anyway, doesn't matter. So, it was on the way from M****'s ward on the D floor of the Clarendon Wing, travelling to the Jubilee Building, that she enquired about navigating from building to building, ward to ward. And, sure enough, you could lie on a bed and be pushed from pretty much any point in Leeds General Infirmary to any other point in Leeds General Infirmary, via a system of corridors, lifts and inter-connecting walkways. All the time, never once having to 'go outside'. How cool is that? Bear in mind that the oldest part of the LGI is over 200 years old, the Clarendon wing is probably about 30 - 40 years old and the Jubilee Building was completed sometime in the mid to late 1990's (I forget precisely when). Anyway . . . everything's looking good, and M**** can leave the hospital some time Wednesday afternoon.
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Thursday 21st July 2005
 
An entire day of relative normality. What a vacuous sentence (the previous one; not this one). Anyway . . . today, after a strange night's sleep ("Erm . . . what's this baby thing doing between us, M****? M****? M****!"), I went to work and had my first full day at work since, erm . . . well, since last Wednesday, I guess. There won't be another of those for about two weeks.
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And, erm, but it was the wrong size. So, after work, I hurried around Marks and Spencer's for dinner food and then cycled up to Leeds University to see this person about, erm . . . some post-graduate psychology student doing a study into walking, eating, well-being . . . blah, blah, blah. She measured my height, my weight . . . some other stuff. Gave me a questionnaire and a pedometer. All fine. And then off back home, getting there about 18:10, not long before Gav and Clo arrived with champagne glasses and champagne, of course. Gav took those first two photos up there. In those group of three pictures above, there is something rare: A****** and Archibald asleep at the same time.
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Yeah, they said something about small lungs lying on their side. Presumably with an accompanying cardio-vascular system. Hello? Oh, and these are some pictures of me lying next to young A****** (people keep saying we look very alike?!). Did something else happen today? Erm . . . well, things happened yesterday that you haven't bothered writing about. Hmmmmm. Okay.
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Friday 22nd July 2005
   
What?! Fine. Here's some more pictures then. M****'s dad, Mark, came round in the evening, hence the pictures of me, A****** and M**** altogether. That's me drinking one of many glasses of champagne that have been consumed recently. I couldn't decide which of those three pictures I preferred, so I've left them all in. Ah, whatever. Someone pointed out that in previous pictures featuring M**** and A******, she didn't look all that happy. Well, that was my fault. No, not the un-happiness; I didn't mean that. I meant that I just happened to take pictures whilst M**** was concentrating on a Sudoku or similar. Hence, to redress the balance: this is M**** as she normally is. These pictures were taken at about ten to ten that night.
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Oh, and today I did also go to town (Leeds centre), doing various errands . . . whilst M**** stayed at home, looking after Archie . . . I mean A******. Well, both, maybe. There were photos to develop at Boots, packets of wipes to buy . . . something else . . . a letter to post . . . blah, blah, blah.
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Saturday 23rd July 2005
  
Mouse and Simon came round some time in late afternoon, early evening. These are them there. In the pictures. First picture there looks a bit funeral parlour, don't you think? We've received a lot of flowers, you see. When one set dies, another set comes along to replace them. The house smells gorgeous. Oh, and that baby that Mouse is holding . . . that's A******. M**** gave birth recently.
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Sunday 24th July 2005
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Today has been a lazy day. A mid-wife (Gail?!) came round at about 11 o'clock. A****** had a quick check. Weight gone down to 4010 grammes (but this is completely normal) and absolutely fine in all other respects. Otherwise, M****, A****** and I have been doing very little today. Sleeping and eating. I've finally figured how to get wireless networking working for me lap-top. This means the lap-top only needs one lead going into it: the power cable. So that's good. Otherwise . . . no news, really. I was saying to M****, we ought to trace back over last weekend and work out exactly what it was that brought on the labour. I suspect I was updating the web-site or M**** was feeding the cat . . . one of those two things must have set it off. But it's all a load of rubbish, of course . . . pretty much as I suspected . . . these things happen as and when.
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Monday 25th July 2005
 
Nothing much to report. A****** keeps sleeping on his side. Apparently this is bad. HE COULD DIE, YOU FOOL!!!!! YOU IGNORANT FOOL!!!! But no . . . he just sleeps. His sleeping patterns take after M****. With me, I'm pretty much either awake or asleep. With M**** and A******, there is a twilight zone between the two. A transitional period, if you will. So yeah . . . a doctor came over in the morning, to check up on M**** and A******. I went to town in afternoon to collect some photos from Boots. And, yeah . . . blah, blah, blah. That was it, really.
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Wednesday 27th July 2005
  
How weird's this? Oh, okay, perhaps not very weird. It's this bit of software I have installed to generate thumbnails, you see. It can do all the standard re-sizing stuff, but can also apply effects. God knows why you would want to do this. You would expect a thumbnail just to be a mini version of the image itself. Anyway, A****** must be getting a bit overwhelmed with all these aunties and uncles, so here's a couple more: Uncle Simon and Auntie Beccy, who came round some time this afternoon, bearing many, many gifts.
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Started to explain to A****** about all the different wireless data transfer protocols we currently have. His first word will be anachronism or something like that. I'll be holding up a CDR and A****** will say, "Anachronism." Maybe. Erm, so yeah . . . there's that awful picture of M**** and I there. I wanted to delete it. M**** didn't. Whatever. 1 point something megabytes on my hard-drive. Tonight, Beccy and Simon did make us some gorgeous curry and A****** was fairly well behaved throughout most of the evening. We have this baby monitor that Maria (from work) lent me. Extremely useful it is too, but it freaks me out a bit . . . one day I'll hear a deep, gruff voice booming out of the receiver - "FEED ME NOW, YOU INSUFFERABLE FOOLS!" ("No, M**** - I've never used the word 'fool' in his presence. That is odd.")
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Thursday 28th July 2005
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No news. Move along, move along. Well, I say that . . . Think I'm starting to get cabin fever. I keep hearing babies crying somewhere in the house and then running around only to find the only baby in the house, A******, is fast asleep, with M**** next to him, reading Heat or watching television. Kind of weird that.
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Friday 29th July 2005
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Dunno what happened today. Maybe M****, A******, Archibald and myself went over to Halton. I think that's what happened. There's no pictures anyway.
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Saturday 30th July 2005
    
All I was trying to do here was get a single photo of Archie next to something to convey scale. I thought a shoe would do the trick, as he has previously been photographed in or close to that very shoe. So that was the rationale there. Otherwise . . . we had to go to Morecambe to pick up my microphone. That done, we went for a walk up and down the promenade. We got back around half past three that afternoon and my parents (plus elder sister, plus her eldest daughter, Jessica) appeared not long after that.
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Sunday 31st July 2005
      
So today we went to Ambleside, to see A******'s great-grandparents, Peter and Therese. There was also Mark and Maria, plus Auntie Helen and her two children (well, two of the three), Hannah (in the stripey top) and Natalie (the other). I think all these pictures were taken after lunch.
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So these ones are mainly of Peter, A******, Mark and Therese (left to right in the first four pictures). M**** took all these. Some of these may look a bit samey, but I can't be bothered to decide which to keep and which to delete. Perhaps later . . . I think whilst all this picture taking was going on, Hannah and Maria were on the lawn, playing croquet (sp.?!) . . . or maybe in the 'holiday flat', playing table tennis. I'm not sure.
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okay . . . and then some with just A****** and either Peter or Therese. Not sure if it was clear, but A****** is named after his great-grandfather, Peter (that being his middle name, you see - A******'s middle name). I feel like I've said that before somewhere.
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