Okay, I'm rubbish. I've been meaning to blog for days. The thing is, once there is 20 free minutes, all I can contemplate doing is closing my eyes. So, I'm going to have to blog while eating or something soon.
In the meantime, the winners of Galaxy chocolate are... (drum roll)...
Date & Time: Lisa Brake AND Dave Elder. It was close, so we'll call it a draw.
Boy (picked at random): Oma and Tom
Keep an eye on the post. Chocolate heaven is on its way.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Sunday, May 04, 2008
No. 1 Court
Ange, in her attempt to do all things British, recently applied (yes, you have to apply) for tickets to Wimbledon. She also applied for tickets to the Ascot (horse races), the Queen's Garden Party (self explanatory) and Trooping the Colours (she has no idea what this actually is but has it on good authority it is fun and very British).
We recently received notice that we were invited to the Queen's Garden Party. The irony of us being invited to attend this event (at Buckingham Palace no less) was not lost on me, after having teased Ange about manners and the inevitable, "what if you ever eat with the Queen," comments. My mum will be pleased to know that years of similar comments have not been wasted on me, and I will be on my best manners.
Then, today, I just opened a letter that had come through some days ago. We had won (in a lottery) permission to buy tickets to Wimbledon. Hooray. As I read through, I note that we have the option to buy tickets for Sunday, 6 July at No. 1 Court. I still haven't entirely looked into it, but it appears that 6 July is the final day of Wimbledon. And No.1 court? Could that mean 'centre' court? I don't know yet. But it seems like there is a reasonable chance that just days before heading over to Buckingham Palace to have tea with the Queen, we'll be having strawberries and cream, watching the final at Wimbledon.
To keep it real, I'm thinking in both instances we'll take the Passat. Nothing like clamouring through the boot of your car to impress your hosts.
Haven't heard about the Passat? Read more...
We recently received notice that we were invited to the Queen's Garden Party. The irony of us being invited to attend this event (at Buckingham Palace no less) was not lost on me, after having teased Ange about manners and the inevitable, "what if you ever eat with the Queen," comments. My mum will be pleased to know that years of similar comments have not been wasted on me, and I will be on my best manners.
Then, today, I just opened a letter that had come through some days ago. We had won (in a lottery) permission to buy tickets to Wimbledon. Hooray. As I read through, I note that we have the option to buy tickets for Sunday, 6 July at No. 1 Court. I still haven't entirely looked into it, but it appears that 6 July is the final day of Wimbledon. And No.1 court? Could that mean 'centre' court? I don't know yet. But it seems like there is a reasonable chance that just days before heading over to Buckingham Palace to have tea with the Queen, we'll be having strawberries and cream, watching the final at Wimbledon.
To keep it real, I'm thinking in both instances we'll take the Passat. Nothing like clamouring through the boot of your car to impress your hosts.
Haven't heard about the Passat? Read more...
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Nutbar
For all those who think Ange is slightly neurotic and possibly just slightly crazy: Ange just announced to me (proudly, though laughing at herself) that Caleb had his first successful pee on the potty today. Nine days and nine hours old.
Good grief.
By way of explanation, here's a little article that goes through both sides of the "diaper free" gig. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Ange was won over when Anna was young by ladies like Moonbeam who lived on a commune on the West Coast. I'm not kidding.
Don't worry. We're still using nappies. Just fewer of them. And, in fairness, only one fewer at this point. Mind you, when Anna was at 18 months I wasn't cleaning up poop. There's something to be said for not having to deal with poop.
Good grief.
By way of explanation, here's a little article that goes through both sides of the "diaper free" gig. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Ange was won over when Anna was young by ladies like Moonbeam who lived on a commune on the West Coast. I'm not kidding.
Don't worry. We're still using nappies. Just fewer of them. And, in fairness, only one fewer at this point. Mind you, when Anna was at 18 months I wasn't cleaning up poop. There's something to be said for not having to deal with poop.
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