The sun shone, the kids danced, the band played.
Dad's mates talking football.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Dad's 70th
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Some news
Don't know if it's
boys
or girls
or possibly a mix but we've just been confirmed with twins.
I'm off to meet a man about a big car tomorrow evening.
The estate agents are coming round on Saturday.
I sense 2010 will be busy.
boys
or girls
or possibly a mix but we've just been confirmed with twins.
I'm off to meet a man about a big car tomorrow evening.
The estate agents are coming round on Saturday.
I sense 2010 will be busy.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Rhode Island Road trip. (geddit?)
It's a play on words.
Rhode, sounds the same as road.
yeah?
Anyway, Frau Random Doubt, Henry and myself took to the Eastern Seaboard's favourite stretch of the interstate we love to call 95 and headed north to the tiny state with the motto 'Hope' and the motley yet charming bunch that is Frau Random Doubt's roots and origins.
We spent the weekend in the charming and hospitable environs of Frau Random Doubt's oldest Third grade school chum of French extraction, actually she lives in Boston so we all made camp with her fragrant Mom and the mildy frightening Malcolm.
The awful, awful beaches of Narragansett. Yeah, the whole place sucked.
Obviously, that was sarcasm.
J'mapelle and Frau Random Doubt ignore Henry while trying to remember who kissed who on what part of the beach in 1987. It was just another wonderful weekend of reminiscence and ice cream. And then it happened.
We spotted the ginger surfer.
Look closely in the rearview mirror. Ginger surfer is trying to drive away from his ginger surfing paradise. J'mapelle was quite catagorical. This was not stalking. Just looking at a stranger without his permission and taking photos.
Oh my god? Henry has gone to bed, we are both awake and are able to enjoy someone else's booze and supremely comfy leather armchairs.
See? there it is again! Proof that we did indeed spend Saturday night drinking it up and being almost like grown ups again!
Of course, Sunday morning was a different story. I feed the boy whilst 50% of our hosts does what has to be done on a Sunday morning.
It gently dawns on 50% of our hosts that there's a baby* on the road in his living room.
Back to the paper.
*Attention breast feeding purists: The boy is drinking breastmilk from a bottle. No formula. Thank you.
Rhode, sounds the same as road.
yeah?
Anyway, Frau Random Doubt, Henry and myself took to the Eastern Seaboard's favourite stretch of the interstate we love to call 95 and headed north to the tiny state with the motto 'Hope' and the motley yet charming bunch that is Frau Random Doubt's roots and origins.
We spent the weekend in the charming and hospitable environs of Frau Random Doubt's oldest Third grade school chum of French extraction, actually she lives in Boston so we all made camp with her fragrant Mom and the mildy frightening Malcolm.
The awful, awful beaches of Narragansett. Yeah, the whole place sucked.
Obviously, that was sarcasm.
J'mapelle and Frau Random Doubt ignore Henry while trying to remember who kissed who on what part of the beach in 1987. It was just another wonderful weekend of reminiscence and ice cream. And then it happened.
We spotted the ginger surfer.
Look closely in the rearview mirror. Ginger surfer is trying to drive away from his ginger surfing paradise. J'mapelle was quite catagorical. This was not stalking. Just looking at a stranger without his permission and taking photos.
Oh my god? Henry has gone to bed, we are both awake and are able to enjoy someone else's booze and supremely comfy leather armchairs.
See? there it is again! Proof that we did indeed spend Saturday night drinking it up and being almost like grown ups again!
Of course, Sunday morning was a different story. I feed the boy whilst 50% of our hosts does what has to be done on a Sunday morning.
It gently dawns on 50% of our hosts that there's a baby* on the road in his living room.
Back to the paper.*Attention breast feeding purists: The boy is drinking breastmilk from a bottle. No formula. Thank you.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
You don't write, you don't call...
... and then you go and get 4 (Four) blogs without telling any of us what time you would be coming home, if indeed you would be coming home. And on top of all that you have a lovely wife who I have yet to meet and probably a pet or a child or something.
Well blood and sand if Mark hasn't got himself a blog, 4 of them actually. I'm as delighted and amused as our very mutual friend Weasel is. You can find Mark's main blog (complete with subsiduary links )at the links bar.
Three of my favourite 'Mark' anecdotes.
1. He once cycled from Ware in Hertfordshire to Norwich for a pint. He had the pint (I was there) and then went to his mum's for a shower. He needed the shower, it was a warm day and the distance was 80 niles. For this he was awarded the Market Cross, the highest award Norfolk can award and one of only two ever awarded.
2. He cleaned a badly trashed boat during a friend's stag weekend. He swabbed the decks ridding it of all remnants of flour and eggs that had been used in a traditional quasi-naval trashing of the groom to be. He worked his balls off so that others may drink beer and belch. He in turn joined in the drinking and belching but only after thoroughly tidying up. A bit like some of the Swiss characters in Asterix in Switzerland.
3. His nickname is Trotter. Always has been and noone really knows why. Once, he was due at my brother's house for a meal. My young neice asked who we were expecting. "Mark" I replied. "Who is Mark?" said she. "Oh you know, always comes round for lunch, rides a bike, always smiling, goes to the football with Uncle Mondale".
"Oh, you mean Uncle Trotter".
Well blood and sand if Mark hasn't got himself a blog, 4 of them actually. I'm as delighted and amused as our very mutual friend Weasel is. You can find Mark's main blog (complete with subsiduary links )at the links bar.
Three of my favourite 'Mark' anecdotes.
1. He once cycled from Ware in Hertfordshire to Norwich for a pint. He had the pint (I was there) and then went to his mum's for a shower. He needed the shower, it was a warm day and the distance was 80 niles. For this he was awarded the Market Cross, the highest award Norfolk can award and one of only two ever awarded.
2. He cleaned a badly trashed boat during a friend's stag weekend. He swabbed the decks ridding it of all remnants of flour and eggs that had been used in a traditional quasi-naval trashing of the groom to be. He worked his balls off so that others may drink beer and belch. He in turn joined in the drinking and belching but only after thoroughly tidying up. A bit like some of the Swiss characters in Asterix in Switzerland.
3. His nickname is Trotter. Always has been and noone really knows why. Once, he was due at my brother's house for a meal. My young neice asked who we were expecting. "Mark" I replied. "Who is Mark?" said she. "Oh you know, always comes round for lunch, rides a bike, always smiling, goes to the football with Uncle Mondale".
"Oh, you mean Uncle Trotter".
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
MON BRAVE!
I had absolutely no idea who Lanoe Hawker was untill about 5 minutes ago.
Now I have a vague sense of a member of the lost generation resurfacing as a psuedonym for my mildly famous older brother.
That's right, My brother has started a blog.
Tis a fledgling thing but as we have long held true in the 'mondale' clan "from tiny acorns do mighty oaks grow".
That's like a family motto.
So is "lark, see the mighty oaks of yore as they stride the land from Hapton to Portishead".
Another is "Never Relax!!"
And of course, the Delphic response to any question "timing".
Anyway, enjoy the blog, watch it grow.
Now I have a vague sense of a member of the lost generation resurfacing as a psuedonym for my mildly famous older brother.
That's right, My brother has started a blog.
Tis a fledgling thing but as we have long held true in the 'mondale' clan "from tiny acorns do mighty oaks grow".
That's like a family motto.
So is "lark, see the mighty oaks of yore as they stride the land from Hapton to Portishead".
Another is "Never Relax!!"
And of course, the Delphic response to any question "timing".
Anyway, enjoy the blog, watch it grow.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Get well soon Joe!
Joe is my brother's nephew.
Sounds a bit tenuous but it's not. We all larked about with Joe's parents before they became parent's etc and long ago formed some type of East Anglian mafia (albeit a sometimes diasphorous one)
Joe's five and has got some nasty stuff going on. I'm going to be keeping up with his progress (and that of his exhausted parents and lil brother and as yet to be born sibling) Youi can check out this fledgling blog at the rather obvious sounding link below.
Good Luck!
Sounds a bit tenuous but it's not. We all larked about with Joe's parents before they became parent's etc and long ago formed some type of East Anglian mafia (albeit a sometimes diasphorous one)
Joe's five and has got some nasty stuff going on. I'm going to be keeping up with his progress (and that of his exhausted parents and lil brother and as yet to be born sibling) Youi can check out this fledgling blog at the rather obvious sounding link below.
Good Luck!
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