View original post 758 more words
View original post 758 more words
There are moments of perfect happiness and pure sadness that you go through as life progresses. Sometimes, lying next to one of the twins on the premise of getting them to sleep you get the first. Let’s not dwell on the latter.
They don’t need a body with them as much as they get one – bedtime with boddlers is sometimes more my treat, than duty.
I have had sport-induced moments of ecstasy in various European cities. I have been able to share and to sometimes produce events where collective abandon has positively swept the room, venue, square.
I have sipped Mojitos on Ocean Drive and been lucky enough to have eaten fried chicken in the Caribbean and to have been on stage in Las Vegas BUT…
Only the fried chicken came anywhere near the moment tonight when my pearly-topped princess pulled my arm around her, snuggled in, sighed and went to sleep; just perfect.
Although to be honest Vegas was more fun and less tiring.
Muddy Park Glistens
Clean up almost finishing
Same again next year
Three Pounds per balloon
The Haiku is an ancient verse – older even than the route of the Didsbury Festival which originally began at Catherine’s house before she became St Catherine and they built a Church.
Next week – it’s the World Cup. At home, it’s just me and twins Friday night and Spain v Holland kicks off at. 8. The importance of strategic planning
The last hour. 10p cakes, the best chicken kebab in Manchester half price and enough puddles to entertain a toddler for days. The park looks like a 70s football pitch and Didsbury Son is going to topple over if he gets any more nonchalant; success all around.
The best line Overheard – You are not having an ice cream, it will ruin your face make-up.
Most interesting pricing – £3 for a balloon, I got stiffed for 2.
I can hear the thump of the bass and the sound of people ranging from shouty toddlers to refined matrons. The rain has eased and the party goes on, but I am in bed with the Mighty-Headed Boy for his afternoon nap.
This bizarre phenomena where small children don’t behave to order or timetable is bafflingly predictable. My Little Princess has not had the opportunity for a sugar rush as her Exorcist style emissions have abated, but the look on her face is one of wanting a quiet place to stare. Or is that me?
Trying to get Mr. Head down for his nap has involved a combination of Alligator a whispering, Greased Pig Wrestling and the promise of more sweets.
Which means Didsbury Son is probably having the time of his life – unshackled.
Nappies permitting we will be back in the park in 30-40
” Between lightening and thunder three seconds the gap, A warm candle glow keeps this wood room from black…
As the rain pours down in the yard. Rain, a most haunting sound”
Martin Stephenson – Rain
And a disappointing soundtrack to the Glastonbury of the North, fast becoming the Henley’s Regatta of the North-West.
Are we daunted? Is the spirit of D Day spilling into Saturday? In parts.
The scouts climbing wall is now a wet n wild Alton Towersesque ride, the smell of the great food is now mixed with that of wet dog and the shops in the village, with their roofs and all are packed but the spirit lives on.
Don’t forget the “Spot the Weekend Tram” competition. Winner bags a Unicorn.
As Ian Astbury told us, “I love the rain. Here it comes again. I love the raaaaaaaaiiiiiiin”.
Rain – Martin Stephenson and the Daintees
Rain – The Cult