The Fairy House revisited ...

The girls and I went back to what Bethany calls 'The Fairy House' last Sunday (I've only just got around to uploading the photos from my camera, hence the delay) for further exploration ... See here for our first visit.

Jackson didn't enjoy the woods too much, as the leaves were thick on the ground and he's only got little legs ...

The fairies obviously owned a car at one point, as we found the front bumper with the number plate still attached (Translation for American readers - we found the front fender with the license plate still attached) Further exploration found non-descript bits of the engine lying in the undergrowth.

Then it was 'Show Dad what we learnt in PE at school time' - Bethany is good at balancing, but I was thinking of the grief I'd get if she fell off the tree and broke something ...

Then it was get the girls onto a tree, put the camera on timer, and run and get into the photo ... Charlotte does like to strike a pose ...

And negotiate the stile to make our way home ... (I lifted Bethany over - she's posing here!)

Bethany and I took Jackson for his regular evening walk last night, and B's overdriven imagination came into force once more. There are some steps we either go up or down, depending on the chosen walk, which B likes to count. We know there are 31 steps, and B will count out loud as we step on each one, but ... I like to join in and after 5 or 6 skip a number, and catch B out with it every time.

Last night as we approached the steps she told me that as I was now 36 I was no longer allowed to count the stairs as the Queen said so and I would be taken away by the Police if I did! I love how she now turns things back on me - when she wants to do something and I don't think she should or want her to, I tend to tell her that she has to be her age + plus 1 year to do it. For example, when Bethany was 4 she really wanted to come and watch Ipswich with Charlotte and I, but I knew she would be bored as soon as she ran out of sweets, so told her she had to be 5 to go to a football match. (I did take her when she was 5, and sure enough as soon as she ran out of sweets, she was bored!). Yesterday she got her own back, can someone please tell me where my little girls are going?!

Partridge and Partridge Cards Ltd

I wrote on Valentines Day about my dislike of cards (Here!), and told the girls last week that I didn't want bought birthday cards, but that they were to make them - and this is what I got:

Charlotte wrote her card herself, and didn't nick the sentiments from elsewhere, so that was nice!

Bethany's card features our dog Jackson on the front, and the message on the left reads 'I love your walks', and not 'I love your work' as I first thought. I do like how she signs her name in full ...

Charlotte always signed her name as 'Charlotte P' when she was B's age; this was due to there being two Charlotte's in her class, and they were distinguished (Is that the right word?) by the letter of their surname. Only problem was, Charlotte carried that on into her life outside school, so any cards or thank-you notes were always signed 'Charlotte P'.

In other news ... Not a lot! I think I'm getting up at stupid o'clock on Saturday so I can queue with several hundred excitable girls to buy tickets for Mia and Charlotte to see McFly at the Ipswich Regent. B was asked if she wanted to go to the concert, and answered with a resounding NO!

And it was 13 weeks yesterday until we go on holiday, and I still haven't been running ...

The Beatles (Or 'The White Album') Side 3, track 1

What do Shaun Goater, Lee Evans, George Harrison, Sally Jessy Raphaël, Anthony Burgess, Zeppo Marx, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Sean Astin, my mate Andy, and me have in common?

Give up?

We were all born on February 25th ...

Happy Birthday Andy - (Oh and click here - though don't bother if YouTube is blocked at work!)

Personally I'm not that fussed about my birthday (Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to take the 'Birthday day' given to us by work), especially as I'm now 36 and on the downward trail to 40. I now feel comfortable wearing beige, having the waist band of my trousers around chest height, and you call that music? It's all noise ... You can't understand the words, it's all 'muddy funster this', and 'muddy funster that' and you can't sing along with that in the shower ... Put some Faith No More on, now that's real music, something with a tune. The kids of the today, they don't know how lucky they are ...

I agree with Jay ...

Saw this bit of graffiti on my train journey to work yesterday morning, and totally agree with the sentiments of Jay the Vandal (Though obviously don't condone him writing about it on the back of the pull down tables on the 05:33 from Manningtree).

GMail is currently down pretty much worldwide, so I'm unable to send or receive e-mail - which is part of the reason I'm Jay like .. Also I'm tired, and I have a lot on at work which is keeping me busy and Jay like.

I do wonder what is causing Jay's mood .. Me? Any of these will do it ...:

• People walking slowly on the pavement
• People having a conversation in the middle of the pavement
• People going either up or down the escalators at Liverpool St, then stopping dead when they reach the top of bottom as if they've never seen a station or the outside world before.
• Those suitcases that are pulled behind you. People pull them along, but have no awareness of those behind them and the carnage the suitcase on wheels is causing
• Sweetcorn
• People on the train who sit in the aisle seat, but leave the window seat empty. Why not sit in the window seat first of all, then you won't have to get up and block the aisle so someone else can sit down?
• People who put a suitcase or bag on a seat on the train. Has your bag or suitcase paid for that seat? No? Then put it either in the luggage rack or somewhere else.
• Umbrellas ...
• Car drivers that don't indicate at roundabouts, so you have to guess if they're going to run you over.
• US TV schedules. If you're showing a season of something, don't suddenly stop for 2 weeks ...
• Reality TV shows
• Reality TV shows with celebrities. I don't need to see Richard Blackwood have an enema thank you very much - and it's the same Z-listers on every show.

There is more, but I can't be bothered ... And don't start me on cyclists that don't observe the highway code, or allow their children to ride bikes on the road without protective headgear.

Still, 13 weeks until holiday ...

I was a BeachBum, and proud of it ...

(Top to bottom: Bryan, me, Malcom, Rich)

I've written before about my time in America, working at 'Camp Kuratli at Trestle Glen', a summer camp in Oregon. I made a lot of good friends whilst there, and kept in touch with a couple over the years and reacquainted myself with some more via Facebook (Hi Holly! Hi Becky!).

I was 20 when I first went to camp, and in all honesty had no idea what to expect. I had spoken to someone who had been there a couple of years before me, and looked through his photo album of his time there, but it was a totally new experience. I was a shy person, and didn't put myself to the front for anything, but something happened at camp ... One of those road to Damascus moments, when I realised that no-one in America knew me, or more importantly knew of my background. In England I was 'Edward, son of Major and Mrs Partridge, played drums in the YP band', but in America? None of that ...

I can still remember the moment the new 'outspoken' me surfaced, during the first get-together during orientation when Quinton (The programme director for the camp) introduced me to everyone and made a joke about the Partridge Family, and I answered back ... The England me would never have done that, but I wasn't in England anymore, I wasn't the 7 year old drummer in the Ilford YP Band, I was a 20 year old male with a cute English accent ...!

During orientation I got talking to Malcom, a Nebraskan, deaf in his left ear (With floppy hair to cover the hearing aid), wearer of bowling shoes, and owner of a bass guitar. I borrowed Quinton's acoustic guitar, and Malc and I spent some time trying to find common musical ground (The Cure's 'Just Like Heaven' proved to be it!). People started to drift over, and soon we were taking requests and the US version of me was well and truly born.

Bryan, the lifeguard made a big impact on me by breaking my collarbone during a game of 'Steal the bacon' (but that's a story for another day), and through a day of profuse apologies and the desire to make it up to me, Bryan and The BeachBums was born. Malc and I wanted a band, but neither of us wanted to sing. Bryan wasn't the greatest singer in the world, but he had enthusiasm and was a showman - we had our front man.

Rich was one of the youngest members of the Camp staff, but could drum and not only that, he could keep time (The original BeachBum drummer being dumped as he was all over the shop with his timing). Problem was, the original BeachBum drummer owned the drum kit, so we scavenged a kit for Rich to play. No-one can play coffee tins and metal fold-up chairs like Rich.

Then there was Holly ...

I first met Holly when she collected me from the airport when I first went to camp. Bearing in mind I had never been to America before, being picked up by an all-American blonde driving a Mustang started the trip off quite nicely! Holly was appointed BeachBum manager, for no other reason than she thought of the band's name. When Bryan came back from the pool shop with an inflatable BeachBum, it was taken as a sign that we were meant to be BeachBums. (I still have the inflatable BeachBum, and am waiting for the moment BeachBum memorabilia is worth something).

One of the girl counsellors presented me with an electric guitar and amp that had been left in her apartment, so with almost 2 hours of practice under their belts, Bryan and the BeachBums made their first appearance at the evening campfire show for the campers. We played 'Sunshine of Your Love', which in hindsight probably wasn't the best choice of songs with its questionable lyrics, but it was easy to play and Bryan knew the tune (Which was always a bonus). I'd be stage-left, Bryan in the centre, and Malcom stage-right - it wasn't until the next year that Malc and I swapped places as it suddenly occurred to us I was shouting chord changes in his deaf ear ... We became a fixture at campfires over the weeks to follow, building the legend of the Bryan and the BeachBums as we went. Our questionable set continued with 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' being played at the Divisional Music School, which culminated with the older campers invading the stage, so requiring a security presence for the next time the BeachBums played.

The final Bryan and the BeachBums gig, we went to town ... All the Camp staff members were issued stage passes (And a lot of thought went into their job titles), Bryan was driven to the stage in a golf cart and ushered on stage by Stan, his security man. Malc and I had roadies to pass us our instruments, and at the end of the performance Bryan was driven off in the golf cart with "Bryan and the BeachBums have left the building" being announced over and over again. I still feel sorry for whomever had to follow us!

There was numerous requests from staff members (Mainly Malc and me ..) for a Bryan and the BeachBums tape, so before the summer ended we gathered in the Lower Dining Hall (Or as it was known on the tape, LDH Studios) and blitzed our way through the BeachBum set. Quinton was in charge of recording (He had a flashlight with a flashing red light which he'd put on during a take), pressing the play/record button with style. We also did a couple of 'live at the Campfire' recordings after Bryan had left, with Malc's brother Bart filling in on vocals for 'Twist and Shout', and tagged them onto the tape.

Malc and I wrote a couple of songs during the summer (Under the name 'Miles Partridge', Miles being Malc's surname), and with the assistance of Malc's sister (She was in charge of the play/record button) recorded them for prosperity's sake. One day, I'll re-record them and stick them up on here. I then spent the rest of the summer copying the tape, and depending on the size of tape given (C15, C60, C90, remember them?!) re-recording the acoustic guitar filler I wrote for the end of the tape ('The final curtain call' - Miles Partridge (c) 1993!) Wish I still had a copy of that tape.

Malcom and I did try again the following year, but the 1994 program staff that year weren't as accommodating as 1993's, and banned us from playing at the campfire! We did manage to play one of our compositions 'Magic World' (Also known as the cliche song, as it had every musical cliche going) at campfire, but sadly, that was it ...

Bit of a self-indulgant post, and I apologise - but camp affected me in a huge way, and Bryan and the BeachBums gave me some much needed confidence. I have told Mia that when I hit 40 in 2013, I want to go back to Camp K for a 20th anniversary reunion gig. Malc? Bryan? Rich? Up for it?

I miss those days ...

And a quick update from Malcom:

I have to correct a couple things -

1) hard of hearing would be the correct label - deaf means complete loss of hearing

2) i'm actually hard of hearing in both ears but could only afford one hearing aid back in those days - i'm not sure i would hear those chord changes no matter which side i stood on.C, D, E, G often sound the same to me under the racket of any band that has meA & F i can usually get - maybe in 2013 we just stick to those two? or i could learn the song in advance.

Happy to set the record straight, and I now have 4 years to find songs that consist purely of A and F!

Home, Sweet Home ...

I've just had 3 days with no work and not getting up until gone 9am, which for me (Who normally gets up between 04:30 and 05:30 most week days) is brilliant. We didn't do a lot, saw 'Hotel for Dogs' which the girls loved, and took the Jackson, our dog for a lot of walks ...

One walk was around Manningtree, where we live, and as a couple of US based friends had asked about the town, I went armed with my camera.

The high street - barely wide enough to get two cars down at the same time, and you have to walk single-file on the pavement on the left. The shop with the yellow awning is D'eath's bakery (Which I always think isn't the best of names for a bakers), the owners of which every year show the infants class at the girls school how they make bread, which in turn means the children pester their parents to buy cakes from the nice bakers!

See ... ! Another place the girls like is the library. The building has been a variety of things, including a church and corn exchange. It is a bit hit and miss with it's opening times, as it doesn't do 9-5 Monday-Friday, but odd hours here and there. I've learnt (And so have the girls) that it's open to 7 on a Thursday, so that's when we normally visit. The library also house the Manningtree Museum, which is only open a Wednesday or Saturday morning, and is manned by a man with the most amazing buck teeth ...

The building in the picture below is one of my favourite places in Manningtree, 'The Mogul' Indian restaurant! The chef is apparently very good, as there was a story in The Sun (So it must be true ..) where someone in Greece or somewhere ordered a take-away, and then had it flown out to them ... I had lunch there the day Bethany was born (Mia being in hospital, so unable to make me lunch ... tsk .. any excuse), and have spent many an evening there with friends. Admittedly the Mogul did lose quite a bit of their staff a couple of years ago, when they were raided for people working illegally, so I'm not sure if the chef is still there.

Opposite the Mogul is South Street, home to the area where witches were ducked in the 1600's, but more importantly the barber shop where I occasionally get my hair cut, and even more importantly the Dragon House chinese take-away! Until I had a special curry from the Dragon House, I never realised that curry sauce and pineapple went together so well.

South Street was also mentioned in a novel set in Manningtree, which had the heroine driving down South Street ... Now it's plainly obvious in the picture above that the street is one-way as it has not one, but two one way signs, and that you drive up South Street. I hope some editor got fired for that henious error.

Moving on ...
The main part of the high street. You'll see the road narrows, and cars coming up the road have to give way to cars coming down the road. I tend not to park on the right, as it's impossible to see any oncoming cars ... Incidentally, 'Tantastic' is the place I bought Mia a voucher for on our 7th wedding anniversary. Traditionally you're supposed to buy copper, but as neither of us has a love of copper items, I decided to turn her copper instead ... I do think about these things you know.
End of the high street now. The War memorial is out of shot to the left, and the house whose side wall fell off late last year is out of shot to the right. The pavement becomes so narrow at this point that you end up in the road, which isn't a good thing as there's a blind corner at the bottom of the road where the road swings round to the left. But, the Crown Inn and their great pub lunches is here, and I always buy a 'War Cry' from the Salvation Army person when they come round, if only to see if I know anyone in it.

Round the back of the Crown, you have the beach at Manningtree. I've mentioned in previous blogs how it was this that swung it for me when decided where Mia and I would bring up our family. We don't visit it enough, but really should.

The tide is out in the photos, which explains why all the boats are stuck on the mud. I'll try and get down when the tide is in as it does look quite impressive. Our friends from the US, Jenna and Will came to stay a few years back, and Will never seemed to get his head round the whole boats on the mud thing - everytime we went down to the river we missed the tide, I think he was sure I was making it up and that the British like to row on mud ...

Now that could have been messy ...

Two blogs in one day? Well I have tomorrow off, and am out with the family ('Hotel for Dogs', something to eat, then swimming if you're interested. And obviously we'll wait one hour before going swimming ...) so decided to blog about my lunchtime exploits now - ok?

I went for my regular lunchtime walk with no idea of where I was going to go, but the River Thames is always a good place to start. I thought that perhaps this blog post could be photos of my walk, but before I post lots of pictures, a quick story ...

On London Bridge there's an underpass that allows you to get down to the riverside. The steps also continue down to the actual river, so with my camera-phone set to black and white as the colour photos didn't come out too well, I went down the steps to the river. There's a mezzanine, (As seen in the moody photo of me) then a further set of steps that lead down to the water, the mezzanine being relatively dry ...

I took the picture of me with the timer function on my phone, then thought that I'd take another one with me slightly further down the steps ...

However, as you'll notice in the picture, the steps are a bit 'shiny' ... This is because they are covered in green slime! I stepped on the first step, promptly slipped, and then slid around the top two steps like Bambi on ice. During the split second that I was hurtling round the steps and swearing profusely, I had a vision of me flying down the steps, unable to stop because of the green slime stopping me from getting my footing, and going headfirst into the Thames. Still trying to think how I'd have explained that one at work ... And now, nearly 2 hours later, my legs are still aching from the strain of trying to stop myself going for a swim a day early.

So I left the steps, and retreated to the safety of dry land.
The tide was out, which is how I like to see the Thames as you never know what you might see, plus there's history to be seen. The photo above has the remains of 19th century barge holdings, as well as masonary from the buildings that used to stand along the Thames and are now long gone, whereas the picture below has two partially submerged and broken lamp posts - aftermath of the bombing from World War 2 perhaps? Though on reflection, they look more like the 'City of London' bollards .. I prefer my bomb damage theory though.

Heading back to work, I passed another of the old/new things I like about London. In the background of the picture you have the Tate Modern Art Gallery, formerly a power station that provided electricity to the south of London, but stretching across the picture is the Millenium Bridge - built for the Millenium, and then promptly shut as there were safety concerns over how it 'bounces' (And there's more of those 19th century barge things as well in the corner!).

But as bridges go, the one over Lower Thames Street is quite weird (And I had to be careful how I took the photo incase the woman in shot thought I was stalking her!) - how comes the bridge suddenly slopes up? Why, when building the bridge, couldn't an extra step be put in on the lower side to make up the difference? Still, makes a cool photo ...

14 weeks yesterday ...

Before I start I'd like to draw your attention to this blog post from a couple of weeks ago - just to say the woman walking down Old Broad Street this morning in ridiculously high heels, holding an umbrella and talking on her mobile, so meandering all over the pavement as she's unable to walk, talk, and hold at the same time - will be the first up against the wall ..

Anyway ...

Went to watch the football last night, taking Charlotte and the little brother of one of her mates (We took him before Christmas, when Charlotte's mate was in hospital and he was bored out of his skull in the play room - we've made him an Ipswich fan!). The ITFC manager has been getting a lot of flak from the local press, who have asked for him to be sacked or for him to resign. They've disregarded the fact that in January we took 11 out of 15 points, and in 23 games we've only lost 4 .. Needless to some of the 'fans' have jumped on the bandwagon and organsied a protest before the match yesterday - it failed spectaculary. The Jim Out's were drowned out by the Jim In's ... And as for their banners, I only hope they checked with their Mum's first before writing all over their bed sheets (And I didn't get them to pose for a photo, I nicked it from the local paper that stirred it all up in the first place)

As we were parked near the planned protest, the kids and I wandered towards the north stand where I could make out a reasonably large group of people. Then as I got closer I started to notice that I could actually hear individual voices during the chanting, it also became apparent that the "large group" was actually only onlookers, pointing and laughing. When I arrived at Sir Alf's statue (The advertised meeting point for the protest) the full extent of the "protest" became apparent... I was actually able to count them, there were 23 of them, there may have been 24, but I couldn't work out whether the kid on the end was protesting or not. The other thing I noticed was how happy they all appeared to be, smiling for the cameras, waving to friends and family. Seriously, 23 of them, who were then overshadowed by the arrival of a group of "Inners", they then rolled up their bedsheets and disappeared.Now, hopefully that will be the end of it.

Protests aside, I love night matches though, as the atmosphere is so much better under the floodlights - only problem is, I find it really hard to get to sleep after the match as I'm replaying aspects of the game through my head - Very, very tired this morning ...

But more importantly, I discovered at the weekend that as of 14 weeks yesterday, I'll be on holiday! My brother-in-law and his other half are getting married in Cyprus, and at the last count there was approximately 20 of us going out for the holiday/wedding. So with the thought that in 14 weeks time I'll be parading around a swimming pool, I'm going running tonight! I need to shift some weight, so have plotted out a nice run - Home to Manningtree, along the walls to Mistley, then down the Harwich Road, and down Cox's Hill to home - works out at around 4 miles. If I can make it to Manningtree tonight without passing out or throwing up, I'll be happy. Luckily, I have tomorrow off so can recover.

My new favourite place in London ...

A few years I ago I stayed at the Tower Hotel (Next to the Tower of London and Tower Bridge) through work, and discovered a ruined church on my walk to work the following morning - Yesterday I thought I'd go and find it again, and find it I did.

St Dunstan-in-the-East was built about 1100. It was severely damaged in the Great Fire of London in 1666. Rather than being completely rebuilt, the damaged church was patched up between 1668 and 1671. A steeple, designed by Sir Christopher Wren, was added 30 years later. This was unusual in that Wren designed it in the Gothic style, to match the old church.
By the early 19th century the church was in a very poor state; and it was rebuilt between 1817 and 1821 by David Laing, with assistance by William Tite. Wren's steeple was retained in the new building. The church was severely damaged in the Blitz of 1941 (By the 'enemies of the King'), during the Second World War. In the re-organisation of the Anglican Church in London following the War it was decided not to rebuild St Dunstan's, and in 1967 the City of London Corporation decided to turn the ruins of the church into a public garden. This was opened in 1971.

What was the interior of the church is now a garden, with a small fountain and plenty of seating. The walls are going green with age, and trees, vines, and the like have been allowed to grow over them (But in a tasteful manner!).

It reminds me of a scene from the old 70's film 'Logan's Run', where Logan escapes the sealed city he and the population of Earth live in, and makes it out to the 'real' world - there he finds a heavily beared Peter Ustinov and the ruins of the Capitol Building in Washington DC. (Or for the younger elements, think of that film with Will Smith living in New York 3 years after the majority of the Earth's population was either wiped out by a virus or turned in zombies - same sort of thing). The way nature has been allowed to reclaim the building (Within health and safety guidelines) is quite cool, and a nice place to escape to at lunchtime.

Incidentally, after the unsavory incident with Andy and his copyright usage over his blog name, I got in touch with the actress Kirstan Dunst to ensure I could blog about St Dunstan's as the name is vaguely similar to hers. Apparently I'm to 'Bring IT on' ... So I've brung it ..

I'm pretty fly, for a white guy ...

I have a guilty secret .. At the age of almost 36 and therefore old enough to know better, I have to raise my hand and say "I quite like gangsta rap ..."

NWA, Tupac, Notorius B.I.G, I like them all. Don't ask me what it is I like about them, as I'm not sure. I like the production, but tend not to listen too much to the words (Which I think defeats the whole purpose of rap) as I'm a white, middle-classed, on the downtrail to 40 male, so find it hard to identify with Dr Dre and the like. There's not a lot of cop beatings, drug heists, or Humvee's rolling in the ghetto of Manningtree, so I'm unlikely to "pop a cap in yo'ass muddyfunster ..." And anyways, I can't find any of those baseball caps with the peaks at the side so am unable to perfect the gangsta look...

In other news ... I signed up for Twitter yesterday (The Facebook account has officially gone), but deleted it this morning, as I was dreaming about it last night! Something isn't right when you're dreaming about social network sites. Having said that, I couldn't see the point of it anyway but did still manage to waste an evening on it - it had to go otherwise I'd be on it all the time.

UPDATE:
Apparently 'Old Enough To Know Better' is copyrighted by Andy, so I've had to put a hyperlink to his blog otherwise he'll sue or something ...

I'm jealous, but for a good reason ...

Take a look at these photos ... 25 year old me (Stop laughing at the back, yes I know the hair is, well, different ...), and the 30 year old me. Both pictures were taken when I was a new Dad, and a new Dad for the 2nd time (And trying to remember how it all worked again). So why the trip down memory lane (And the bad hair days ..)? Well my mate Andy announced on his blog last week that he's going to be a Dad (Click here for a scan photo of a baby with a cigar ...), and I'm made-up for him and immensely jealous!

Andy did ask why I was jealous, so I told him:

• The first look at this person you and your wife have created


• The over-whelming love you have for this defenceless person you've never met before


• The surprise when they first sneeze (It never occured to me that babies can do that!)


• Being woken up at 3am, and not caring that you've got to get up in 2 hours for work, you have a good reason to be up
  
• The first word


• The first time they call you Daddy


• The first crawl


• The first step


• Holding hands to cross the road


• The look of joy when you come home from work, and the cry of "Daddy!", followed by an on-rushing child launching themselves into a hug of hugeness.


• The little in-jokes you have with them when they're older ("Bethany?" "Yes Dad?" "Smellls!" - she likes it anyway, especially when can turn it round on me)


• The total trust when you do things with them


• Their innocence at the world around,


• The unquestioning love.


• The belief a small child has in you, Daddy can fix anything ...

That's why I love being Daddy.

And the best bit, 5 and 10 years later (We find out 2 weeks today which high school Charlotte will be going to in September - and that is just wrong!), nothing changes. In fact, every day it gets better, as every day the little person you helped create grows up just that little bit more, and every day you look with pride at who your baby has become and think "I did that."

Andy and V are about to start that journey, and that is why I'm jealous.

Puddles, Pooh, Painters, and Pablo ...

The roads around where we live are all named after famous painters, the majority of which have something to with the Essex and or/Suffolk areas. The most famous painter from the area is probably John Constable, and his most famous painting is this ...:

The Hay wain (Painted in 1821)

A couple of years ago Charlotte's class spent 2 days (And 1 night) in Flatford Mill, the area where the Hay wain was painted. I was trying to think of somewhere different to take the girls and dog for our regular Sunday walk, and as Flatford is only 2 miles away decided to go there.

Its rained and snowed a lot over the past week, so all the rivers in the area have burst their banks resulting in fields being covered in standing water, and the rivers themselves flowing at a greater speed than normal. And everywhere is muddy ... With this in mind, B and Charlotte decked themselves out in their finest welly boots, and B matched hers with a fetching pair of pink trousers .. (There was no way I'd lose her ..)

After gingerly making our way down the mud-coated steps from the car park, we literally bumped into Ipswich Town FC's number 9, Pablo Counago! Pablo is in his 2nd spell with the club, and is one of Charlotte's favourite players - When Pablo left the club after his 1st spell, I took her to get his autograph after his final match, only then did it dawn on her that Pablo was leaving and when she got his autograph and he had said bye, she promptly burst into tears! I took the tearful Charlotte home, but stopped at the gates of the club car park so I could wipe her tears once more. A big car pulled up next to us, and someone called Charlotte's name, looking up we realised it was Pablo! He called Charlotte over to the car, where he presented her with his shirt from the match we had just watched! (It was still damp!) So my very tearful 6 year old, became a very happy 6 year old. Nice bloke, not your typical footballer.


So after the excitement of meeting Pablo, (Bethany was somewhat nonplussed about the whole thing), we had a go at our own 'Hay wain' (Though not having a copy of the picture, really didn't help):


The house is known as 'Willy Lott's cottage', and Charlotte spent the night in it when her class stayed at Flatford. The house isn't open to the public, so whilst helping on her school trip I took full advantage and had a good look round.

Then we walked round to the bridge over the incredibly fast-flowing river to play Pooh Sticks. Now Bethany had never heard of Pooh Sticks before, and looked positively disgusted with the whole idea of poo and sticks, but once Charlotte and I explained the game (And that it was Winnie-The-Pooh, and not, well, poo ..) she was well up for it. Much cheating went on, with sticks being dropped before the count of 3, or different sizes being used for maximum effect, but the girls enjoyed themselves (3 guesses who lost though ...!)


We had a walk down the river, past an even-faster-flowing-than-the-river lock, and the girls took full advantage of their welly-wearing and took to the puddles. (They supposed to be 'scared' in the photos ... I'm guessing they won't be actresses when older.)The problem with bumping into Pablo, was we then kept bumping into him .. We went back to play Pooh Sticks again, and he was there (Charlotte chickened out of asking him if he fancied a game!), we headed over to the shop, and he was there ... We got back to the car park, and his car was parked next to ours?! Perhaps he was stalking us? Or maybe he wanted his 2003-2005 ITFC shirt back?

And now .. I have to think of somewhere to go next week ... Wonder where Pablo is going?