"Brownie? That's not a brownie ... THIS is a brownie ..."

There are some things you don't want to hear discussed at 8am in the morning, and 3 over-50's talking about their lack of sex education is one of them ... They've now moved onto how the UK is a "Nanny state and the laughing stock of the rest of the world". One of them read it in the Daily Mail, so it must be true ... Needless to say I've booted up iTunes, and Level 42 are telling me in their techno pop-crap way how they and various sons and daughters are in 'Hot Water' ...

Anyway, chocolate brownies.

The world's largest chocolate brownie, was a 3,000-pound slab of chocolate made from scratch by students in the Culinary Arts program at Putnam-Northern Westchester Board of Cooperative Educational Services, and consisted of 750 pounds of chocolate chips, mixed with 500 pounds of butter, 850 pounds of sugar and 500 pounds of flour. Oh, and 3,500 eggs.

It took eight hours for the 51 students to assemble the 208 individually baked trays into one final product.

Compare that with the Weight Watchers brownie I had yesterday ...

Either that's the world's largest pen, or the world's smallest chocolate brownie ...

Only 23 calories declares the box. That's because there's nothing there! Woe betide anyone who disturbs me whilst I nibble, hamster like, at my 23 calorie, microscopic chocolate treat ... And we won't mention the Weight Watchers doritos I had last week, and how there were the grand total of 13 doritos in the packet ...

Still, the diet is carrying on ... I'm eating more fruit, and have discovered that Coke Zero and Pepsi Max don't actually taste that bad. Admittedly I'm hungry all the time, but come 8 weeks and 1 day when I'm waif-like by a pool in Cyprus, it'll all be worth it. That and the fact the hotel is all-inclusive, so all that weight I will have lost will be back come the end of that week ...

It's all in the name ...

Took Charlotte to Ardleigh church on Saturday morning for her day of rehersal with the church theatre group she's joined. We were the 1st to arrive so had a wander round the church whilst we waited for everyone else to turn up, and noticed a name on the 1914 - 1918 war memorial: Ernest Partridge, same name as my paternal grandfather (Though not him as Dad was born 30 years after World War 1 finished), but the name of the soldier below him did raise a wry smile: Charles Peartree. Partridge and Peartree ...

Every Christmas we get cards from people referring to the 'Partridge in a pear tree' carol, obviously thinking they're the first to send it to us, ever. I hated the carol when at school, as everyone would point to me when singing it.

Partridge also has another connatation in the UK, with 'Alan Partridge', a creation by the comedian Steve Coogan. Alan is based on the local TV personalities that regional TV shows seem to breed, and is the self-confessed 'King of Chatshows'. When Mia was pregnant with Charlotte, I was offered £40 to name her 'Alan' by one of my friends ...

In other news, I spent an incredibly boring Saturday afternoon in Mistley church, as Charlotte's theatre group moved there for their next set of rehersals. I was required to work my guitar and bass magic, but spent the majority of the afternoon sat in a corner wishing I had brought a book with me. And after all that work I did on my guitar, I only use it for 2 songs - and 1 of those was cut on Saturday!

Sunday was spent in the hell that is Ikea, followed by flat-pack assembly fun. We have a study of our front room, (Or 'study/5th bedroom' as I recently saw on a house listing of a friend who has the same house as us. If you like standing up, you'll be fine) and Mia decided over the weekend that it needed a make-over as it was wasted space and had turned into a dumping ground. So I was despatched to Ikea with a shopping list, and somewhat surprised myself by getting everything on the list - what's more, it seems all the relevants bits are in the boxes as well, which is a first for Ikea.

In between Ikea and assembly, I did have to take Bethany to a birthday party involving trampolines and bouncy castles - she then realised whilst eating the birthday cake on the way home, that yesterday was 1 month to her birthday, so has started planning her party ...

She was complaining yesterday afternoon she couldn't find the siver glitter, so I'm assuming she's going for a glam-rock themed party ...

"George, was a giant ...."

As the guy who sits opposite me has the hangover to end all hangovers, I'm being nice and being quiet (Obviously I did say "Hello Paul!" in a loud cheery voice, and have slapped a few books down on the desk in the meantime) so the office is library-like.

As a child I loved going to the library (Nicely linked huh?!). My local one was in Gants Hill and was split into a children's library and the adult library. The children's one had these white, round book holders on the floor with 4 compartments where the picture books were kept, and I'd spend ages searching for an Asterix or Tin-Tin books I hadn't read. Alternatively I'd be working my way through Enid Blyton's 'Famous Five' or 'Secret Seven' series, or occasionally the 'Jennings' series of books. The librarian was a 60's/70's throwback, with her long hair parted straight down the middle, and her penchant for cheesecloth .. But she was brilliant. She knew every child's name and their favourite books, and would always have a suggestion on something else to try which invariably was right. Through her, I learnt to love reading and consequently I always have a book on the go, and will read pretty much anything.

Charlotte and Bethany have acquired my love of reading, and Thursday evening is our regular library visit. Manningtree Library is quite small, but the girls always find something of interest to them. I've always read to the girls at bedtime and have discovered that both have different tastes.

Charlotte liked novels, and would like a chapter each night (On the understanding I could scan ahead and skip bits if the chapter was a long one), we worked our way through the Famous Five and the Roald Dahl books ('Danny the champion of the world' being a big favourite) - which gave me a chance to reacquaint myself with the books of my childhood. She's old enought to read to herself at night now, and is now devouring the Jacqueline Wilson books as fast as she can find them.

Bethany likes short stories, and her absolute favourite is 'The Smartest Giant In Town'. I seem to read that book at least twice every couple of weeks, and both Bethany and I can recite it at will, but it's fun book to read. Lot's of voices to put on (As she can read very well, I now get B to do them) and a song/poem to recite after each event - Bethany knows that if I'm in a rush or just don't seem up for reading too much, to get that book out.

I'm going to miss reading to her (and also the 'Smartest Giant In Town') when she moves on to reading to herself like her big sister, I'll have to read the book to myself, or the dog ... Failing that, I'll invite myself round to friend's houses and read the book to their children at bedtime.

"I saw this on YouTube ..."

I had my camera in the office yesterday as I was downloading the photos from the go-karting on Tuesday evening (I still hurt incidentally ...), and as the weather was quite nice I decided to visit the Monument.

The Monument was built between 1671 and 1677 to commemorate the Great Fire of London of 1666, and to celebrate the rebuilding of London (Yep, it was finished 100 years before America was 'born' ...). The fire began in a baker's house in Pudding Lane, on Sunday 2nd September 1666, and was fianlly extinguished on Wednesday 5th September. The fire severely damaged thousands of houses, hundreds of streets, the City gate's, public buildings, churches, and the original St Paul's Cathedral. The only building to survive were those built if stone.

The Monument stands 202 feet tall, and incorporates a cantilevered stone staircase consisting of 311 steps. The height of the Monument is the exact distance between it and the site in Pudding Lane where the fire began.

So that's the history out the way ...

£3 to go in the Monument, which I didn't think was too bad, and then the 311 steps which the day after go-karting were an absolute killer!

But the views made up for the burning in my thighs ..!

Tower Bridge and HMS Belfast (Where Spandau Ballet were holding their press conference to announce their reforming)

My office! (The one with the clock)

Tower 42 (Big building on the left) and 'The Gherkin' (The, um, gherkin shaped building on the right)

Some very brave builders ... It's very windy 160 feet up.

I was about to make my way down the windy-windy steps, only to notice a party of school children coming up so I waited ... The first one (Aged about 7) came out, saw Tower Bridge ahead of him and dejectedly said "Oh .. I saw this on YouTube ..."

I survived ... But I ache ...

Go-Karting last night with work, good time had by all. Lots of cheating, lots of crashing, lots of laughter. Did get to wear a fetching red race-suit and a white hairnet, but luckily for me I look good in anything ... I can make a bin bag look good ... (And that's not me in the photo)

Needless to say this morning I ache all over, though being rammed in the side didn't help and I now have a lovely bruise above my ribs! We now fancy paint-balling as our next activity ...

In other news, I started a diet on Monday (Holiday, 10 weeks today!). Monday's food consisted of 2 apples, a banana, some Weightwatchers crisps, and a Slimfast bar .. Mia had made jacket potatos and beans for when I got home from work, but I was so hungry I dived straight in and burnt the roof of my mouth.

And I've sussed out Weightwatcher brand food. The reason it's marketed as Weightwatchers is due to the size of the portions. I made myself sandwiches with Weightwatchers bread this morning, and I swear the slice is half the size of a regular slice ...

Another one in the series of "Where did it all go wrong?" ...

Flicking through the book on Manningtree Station last night, I noticed this photo of the Station Arms from 1911:

Apparently this was the station pub until 1973, and the back left of the photo you can see the roof covering platforms 1 and 2, and the station building itself.

The pub was supplied by the Cobbolds (Who incidentally made Ipswich Town FC into a successful club - it was said that the only time the club was ever in crisis under the Cobbold's was when the boardroom ran out of sherry! One of the stands at the ground is now named after them), a local brewery, and also supplied bed and breakfast. Just behind the pub (To the right) the roof of the station master's house (Long gone ...) is just visible. Finally on the left of the photo, a set of iron railings can be seen running down the side of the station road - apparently an escaped Nun from East Bergholt attached herself to these in an attempt to stop being sent back to the convent! Bearing in mind she had a family, and wrote a book about her escape I'm assuming she was successful.

And compared to how it the building is now?

What happened?! The ornate brickwork has all be plastered over, and the chimney stack is gone. When you walk past the building now (It's now an office with some flats - one of Charlotte's school friends lives there) it looks so sterile, especially when you consider how it used to look.

Although there is a front door still in the original location, it's not used - the new 'front' door is round the side opposite the cars queuing to leave Station Road, and the door at front right of the building has been coverted to a window. The layout of the road has changed significantly, with the addition of an underpass under the train tracks so cars can avoid the level crossing. I couldn't recreate the original 1911 photo, as I'd have been stood in the middle of the road.

The saddest part for me is the loss of the brickwork, it made the building - now it looks so out of place.

In other news ... I'm going Go-Karting with 17 people from my office tonight. We did spend yesterday studying the layout of the track, and discussing braking strategies and racing lines ... I think the general consensus though is to basically floor it.

We will all be kitted out with crash helmets and race suits, and have had another long discussion on suitable footwear - I've plumped for Converse Hi-Tops, more 'feel' ...

So depending on both my ability and those I'm going with (We have at least 2 non-drivers!), this could be the last blog post.

It's been a pleasure.

That Wicked Witch has been at it again ...

It's Monday morning, and I'm in the office at 7am with my headphones on again. The annoying woman in the office is about to launch into a critque of the final of 'Dancing on Ice', so I've launched ITunes and have the first Pet Shop Boys album on to drown out the annoyance. They must think I'm a grumpy git in the office, and to be honest they're not wrong.

Out for the Sunday afternoon walk with Bethany and Jackson yesterday, Charlotte decided that watching 'Bride Wars' was far more preferable to walking across fields with her Dad and sister ...

We went across to the local church to let Jackson have a run across the massive field next to it. Before we started running, Bethany did ask me where my phone was and made sure I had it somewhere safe as she didn't want a repeat of our last visit ... (http://outofmeed.blogspot.com/2009/03/out-here-in-fields.html) Turns out that Jackson doesn't actually like this field, as the ground is too uneven and there's a lot of thistles amongst the grass which when you're as small as him can catch you in places you don't want to be caught in.

Bethany did find some 'treasure' in the field, and tells me that it comes from a plate and not a cup or jug - I beg to differ but defer to the experience of my 5 year old as she obviously knows about these things. The treasure will be going into school today, so it can be oohed and ahhed at by the class of Y1. B did tell me yesterday that she's marrying Daniel Lea from her class when she's grown up - I asked when that would be, and apparently when she's 10 ... She then decided 20, but eventually plumped for 30 which is good, as neither she or her sister will be allowed to date until they're 30 ... But Bethany did find the house that she and Daniel will be living in when they're married ...

We then had a walk round the church yard where we noticed a lot of glitter on the floor. Apparently this was the doing of the Wicked Witch once more, and Bethany launced into a detailed explanation of why the Wicked Witch would do such a thing, but then she spotted a rabbit which was much more interesting and caused her to lose her train of thought.

As Bethany was kind enough to come on a walk with me, I decided to treat her and hit the local playground on the way home. Jackson prefers this field as it's flat and doesn't have thistles, so hared round it whilst Bethany and I explored the playground equipment. After a bit of persuasion I got Bethany into the 'baby' swings after explaining I'd be able to push her higher on those than the 'big girl' swings, then it was the slide ...

Frankly this scares the BeJaysus out of me and I had visions of trips to casualty due to an overexcited 5 year old tripping on the top step - but she was fine and insisted that Jackson also had a go on the slide.

Doesn't take a lot to keep my 5 year old entertained, a walk, a play on the playground equipment, and she's happy - which is how it should be. And she tells me when she's 10 she'll still come for walks with me, and not stay at home at watch DVD's - which is nice, and I'm going to hold to that.

"It's 1973. It's dinner time. I'm'aving 'oops .."

I don't watch much TV when at home, in fact when Mia and the girls have their annual trip to the in-laws for a week in the summer (I take them down, then come back to London to work) and I'm home alone - the TV is rarely, if ever, switched on. I do watch a lot of programs/films on my PSP on the train journey to and from work though.

I've worked my way through all 5 seasons of 'House MD', and did find myself doing a differential diagnosis when my Dad was in hospital one day. I've also watched all 5 seasons of 'The Wire', plus seasons of 'Damages', 'Flight of the Conchords', and 'The Unit'. Recently though I've been re-watching 'Life on Mars' - I love the concept of the show, with the main character waking up in 1973. I like looking at old photos of places I've lived in and seeing how much they've changed in the intervening years, and would jump at the chance to be able to go back and see these places as they were (On the proviso I could get back again).

I got two books out of the library last week about Manningtree, and found the picture below in one of them:
This is a photo taken at the top of Station Road in 1977. I walk down this road at least 10 times a week, and from the photo recognise the telegraph pole on the right (It's straight now), and the small lay-by just in front of the flat-bed Ford Transit.

This is the road now:

The fields to the right of the 1977 photo now have mine and a couple of hundred other houses on them, gone are the days when my mate Nikki used to run her school cross country over what is now my back garden.
The road has gone from being straight down Cox's Hill and turn left for the station, or right for Manningtree, to having a roundabout (Flowers provided by 'Hearts Delight' ..) which is frequently snarled up when the level crossing is in use. The small sign pointing to the station has been replaced with the standard Network Rail station sign, and the bushes on the corner have overgrown to the extent that you can't see past them - and when the students gather there to catch a bus you end up in the road ...

The town has changed so much over the past 30 years, and I wonder how it will change in the next 30 - though of course we'll all be living on the moon or something by then ...

I'd love to be able to walk down Manningtree High Street, circa 1977 (Though while I'm there I may nip across to Ipswich and catch 'Star Wars' before George Lucas started playing with it and ruined it) and across the field where my house now is and try and figure out where my garage should be ...

And perhaps I'd get the train to Ilford, walk through Valentines Park to Auckland Road, and see if I can spot this 4 year old ...

Should I tell him to avoid dating certain young ladies in the early 90's, and that shortly after my 7th birthday I'm going to faint in the middle of an Salvation Army meeting? Or would the universe explode due to me messing with the space-time continuum? We'll never know ... (Unless of course at the age of 4 I was visited, and I just ignored the strange man who came to see me - which is also possible unless he had Star Wars figures.).

I would however tell him to lump on Ipswich winning the 1978 FA Cup, and Coventry and Wimbledon doing likewise in 1987 and 1988 .. It would pay for that 'Fila' tracksuit I always wanted but could never afford ...

What doesn't kill me makes me stronger ...

Weather annoyed me this morning, as it spoilt my planned blog for today (I don't just throw these together you know, some thought goes into them) - so the planned blog will probably occur over the weekend, dependant on weather and photo opportunities ... That's something to look forward to.

Long discussions at work this regarding hot drinks ... We have tea/making facilities in our kitchen that offer a wide range of hot drink options, including 7 types of coffee at various strengths and 3 types of tea, plus fruit teas. And then there's the green tea ..

Now Ryan, who I work with, has been extolling the virtues of green tea. It's full of antioxidants, which is good apparently, and also is good before going to the gym as it helps burn fat and not muscle. Now we only have Ryan's word for this, but consequently we've all been on green tea this week (Even me, who doesn't goto the gym but does walk a lot at lunchtime). We only had the Green Tea with Jasmine in stock, which to be honest I wasn't too keen on as the jasmine left a bit of an after-taste; so I had a word with the nice lady who orders the drinks in, and she got me some 'Japanese Green Tea' without any flowery stuff.Yesterday afternoon was the great tasting. We roped in Yuji, the Japanese guy who sits next to me and who is very particular about his green tea, and all had a cup. Yuji passed the tea as satisfactory, especially for something out of a packet, Ryan and Paul missed the flowers ... Me? Well I prefer it to the jasmine infused one, but do have to get past the fact it looks like something Shrek blew out of his nose ...

Still, watch me go waif like over the next few months as I drink green tea ... That said, I am going on a diet as of Monday (Chinese take-away tomorrow?!) as it's 10 weeks until I lounge around a pool ...

Cereal, green tea, and possibly running or rowing - how long do you think that will last?

Happy-clappy? Me? I think you're confusing me with someone else ...

Had my first rehersal yesterday for Charlotte's theatre group. Not my particular favourite style of music, and I spent most of the evening playing bass (After all that work on my guitar!) but it was nice to be playing again. We did play a couple of songs by a Christian songwriter who I can't stand - there was a particular stage in my life when playing various bands for the Salvation Army where we would have to play his 'hit', as the person leading the service would throw it in as 'one the children' like - the song, however good it may have been, soon lost its appeal.

(I also showed the choral master my theory on a particular song by this songwriter and its uncanny resemblance to The Who's "Substitute" ..)

I've been asked to play for the Sunday 'Family services', which to be honest doesn't appeal to me whatsoever - especially when the music we'd be playing was described as 'happy-clappy'. I'm not, and have never been, happy-clappy ...

I had my regular lunchtime walk yesterday, this time heading over the river to Southwark. One of my collegues did mention that another collegue is convinced I go and do something illicit during my lunchtimes, so I now make a point of saying if you need me try my mobile, failing that call the reception at that hotel that charges by the hour ...

Other than a cathedral (Which I did nip into yesterday), Southwark also has 'Borough Market', which sells fruit, veg, fish, and meats. And potatoes since 1875...

Apparently there's been a market in one form or another since 1214, when it was originally on London Bridge. At the time, London Bridge was the only bridge in London that crossed the Thames, so the market and surrounding areas was the place to be for traders in the south of England to come and sell their goods in London.

And should Maria ever decide she wants to work in London, I found the perfect place for her ...

But it's the streets surrounding the market I like, Park Street in particular. It retains the old London look that I love, with the fronts pretty much untouched and the evidence of the old warehouse cranes remaining.

The building with the blue front still has the door on the 1st floor opening out to the street - this is where stock etc would have been winched in. The building with the blinds is 'Neal's Yard', a cheese shop of some repute.

Other than where it comes from (And I'm a bit hazy on that), I know nothing about cheese, but I will be visiting Neal's tomorrow to get Mia some strong chedder for Mother's Day! She can't find any strong enough in the supermarkets, and as I have THE cheese shop on my doorstep, it'll be rude not to get some from there.

Not your regular Mother's Day gift I know, but I'm a great believer in it's the thought that counts.

Run Rubin, run!

Somewhere in central London, a man called Rubin is a little bit worried ... Apparently someone is out to get him, and not only get him, he swears he'll get him. Nowif I was Sherlock Holmes or the like, I'd deduce that the message above was written by someone foreign to these shores purely because of the 'I swear' at the end of the message. A regular UK educated person would never end the sentence with 'I swear' - I wonder if the person ran his proposed threat through babelfish or some other translation site on the internet, and ended up with the the translation seen in the picture.

Having said that, my written English is appalling (And I still couldn't tell you what a noun, adjective etc is) so the sentence in the photo above could for all I know be gramatically correct.
It does remind me of something Stephen Fry said at the beginning of a live comedy concert, where he warns the audience that there will be some bad language in the performance. He says at one point one of the artists will say "Why don't you %$^&*& just f%$* off?!" - now 'off' is a preposistion, and you should never end a sentence with a preposition ...

Sometimes I surprise myself ...

Before I start, another lift (Or elevator for Holly, my confused American friend - Hi Holly!) moan ... When you enter the lift (or elevator) don't press the floor button and then stand directly in front of the panel so blocking the access for everyone else. Common sense really isn't it?

The guitar ...

Couldn't get grade 60 sandpaper so bought grade 80 and hoped it would do the job. It did!

Only took me 20 minutes to complete the job, including the time to remove the pickups. I then decided to take the sander to the bridge, as I had noticed a bit of brass poking through.

Somewhere in my garage I have a bottle of 'Brasso', once I find it I'll give the bridge the once over and see if I can remove some of the grime that's acumulated there over the years. I also plan on taking the bridge to pieces again at some point and reseating the tuning pegs, as the 'A' peg isn't sitting straight - bit of WD40 wouldn't go amiss either!

I reattached the bridge, and reconnected the volume and tone pots, plus the pickup selector. I also took the opportunity to resolder the connections on the pots and selector, plus the input connector. Finally I put the new volume and tone knobs on and reattached the neck - things were looking a bit more guitar like now.

I took the guitar back into the house and proudly showed it off to Maria - she was so excited and delighted with my work, she could hardly speak and chose to watch TV due to being so overcome with emotion.

Last thing to do was restring the guitar, and then plug it in to check it still works ... I only put the bottom 'E' string on, and plugged it into my portable studio. Noise from the guitar, and the 3 pickups work! Continued to restring the guitar and had a little play to see what needs doing. I need to adjust the height of the pickups and bring them closer to the strings, and and also adjust the height of the strings themselves, this I will do tomorrow evening before my first rehersal for Charlotte's drama group. Me, a pianist and a drummer - should be interesting.

I still need to varnish and/or lacquer the guitar, and I'm swaying towards keeping it 'natural' and foregoing the black wash. I also need to get a knob for the pickup selector, but that can wait for a couple of weeks. Overall I'm delighted with how it looks, and have also learnt a lot on how my guitar works. I'm seriously considering changing the pickups in the future, and although I still have some trepidation about soldering irons and my guitar, I'm confident enough to have a go ...

Ziggy may have played guitar, but has he ever stripped one?

In the office, headphones on (Bit of Bowie if you're interested, hence the blog title) to drown out the incessant conversation going on between the middle-aged woman and approaching retirement feller about 'Dancing on Ice' - I don't care if you think it's a fix (I think "Ch-ch-changes" needs to be turned up ..)

Anyway, the guitar is coming along quite nicely. I got from eBay two new pots and knobs to replace the one broken pot and missing knobs on my guitar. I went at the guitar with a soldering iron on Saturday evening, and not only managed to remove the old pot without setting the guitar on fire, but also fitted the new pot and successfully soldered all the wires back in the correct places (Yes, I did burn my finger, but that's to be expected) - I basked in the warm glow of a job well done, whilst sucking the burn on my finger.

I also fixed the loose bridge pickup (That's the one at the back of the guitar Andy), and then removed the front one so I could sand properly.

Out came the alun keys, and the neck was removed to make sanding easier. I found my electric sander which does a very good job of removing the old paintwork. The wood underneath does look very nice and I'm toying with keeping the guitar as a 'natural' finish. I have decided to leave the sides and back alone, the black brings out the natural wood quite nicely.

I removed the bridge (That's the bit at the back of the guitar Andy) and the volume and control pots, along with the pickup selector last night (Dropped them all into the cavity on the back of the guitar for safe keeping) to make sanding easier. I've made some headway, but my electric sander goes through sandpaper like anything and I've run out of 60 grade paper so need to get more today. Hopefully tonight the sanding will be done, and then I can look into the varnishing, maybe with a black wash, I'm still deciding - apparently I need something to clean the wood down and remove the excess dust and fingerprints from the body, otherwise they'll show up on the woodwork.

Like the two chrome knobs? Them and the pots cost me less than a tenner on eBay, which is a bargain (Whether Mia sees it at that remains to be seen!). Looking at the bridge (Next to the knobs Andy) I've noticed there's a fair bit of brass under the black, so may hit it with the sander and see what happens - I'll finish the body first though as sandpaper is a rare commodity where my sander is concerned.

I'm enjoying this though, so apologies for the boring blog posts! (and at the moment, Bowie is telling John that he's only dancing)

Oh ... please leave me comments when you've read my blog - it brightens up my day!

18th century vandals ... (Now that's a good name for a band ..)

Text from my Mum this morning to see if I was taking the girls to Flatford today, as she and Dad thought they might tag along as the weather is nice. So arrangements were made for Mum and Dad (And Lady their dog) to pick up Charlotte, Bethany and me (And Jackson our dog) and we'd head over to Flatford.

As the girls had been twice before (3 times in Charlotte's case as she'd been there and spent the night on a school trip) they decided they were leading authorities on Flatford Mill, so gave their aged grandparents the guided tour.

The main thing about Flatford in Bethany's eyes is the opportunity to play 'pooh sticks' (Read your A.A.Milne if you're not familiar ..), so we headed across to an area where we knew there to be lots of sticks good for pooh.

Bethany also took the opportunity to show Nanna her 'stage', and to demonstrate the moves you could throw on it. (At times I wish I was 5, nearly 6)

So armed with sticks we headed back over the the pooh stick bridge, with the girls explaining the rules to their grandparents ("You don't throw on 3, you go 1,2,3 then throw" "No Grandad, not 4 ..")And please note the nappy sack containing dog poo in my Mum's hand; we are responsible dog-owners and Mum carried that for a good 30 minutes (And yes we did the poo/pooh joke).

I stayed off the bridge, fearing carnage and bloodshed from my competative children and even-more-so parents. No idea who won, but I think they enjoyed it.
We headed down to look at the lock, and for Bethany to jump in some puddles, and then back to the bridge for more pooh sticks (2nd half apparently) only for Bethany to fall over and bang her knee - only a trip to the tea rooms with Nanna and Charlotte to get ice creams would fix this knee .. (Dad and I took the opportunity to dispose of the dog poo).


We then drove over to Dedham, a little town a couple of miles down the road from Flatford as my Mum swore blind she'd never been there before and I swore blind she had (Needless to say I was right ...). There are a lot of very old houses there, and my Dad noticed some 18th century graffiti on the front of one of the houses.

"W.Watson 1789"

So yes my American friends, we Brits (G.Taylor 1777 in particular) were writing graffiti on our houses around the same time you got a country ...!

Kids .... Don't you just love 'em ..?

Walking back to the car last night with Charlotte and Bethany after our weekly visit to the library, Bethany suddenly declared I needed to get my haircut. When prompted as to why, she told me it's because I'm not "handsome" anymore! Charlotte did her best to be diplomatic and say I am, but Bethany was quite adamant that I'm not, and I really should get my haircut again!

She's also of the opinion that I should have it ALL cut off, and not my regular 1 at the sides and 3 on top - that way people will come up to me and say "Nice haircut Ed!" ...

I mentioned this to Mia when we got home, and she wanted to know what Bethany meant by 'anymore'? She also told me that I shouldn't have all my hair cut off as it makes me look like a convict and/or I'm on day release from the local nuthouse - and anyway, I'm thinning now ...

Self-esteem? Yeah ...