My Blog Posts

I’m running a bit behind with my daily photos. This is actually the one I intended to show on Sunday. It does, though, demonstrate the comedy stylings of Alexander G. Todd. He is pictured here taking his ease at Cafe Beltree at Margan Family Wines in the Hunter Valley. As you can see he’s demonstrating the humourous potential of a muslin square. Or, as it’s called Chez Todd, a woobie. The boy is a proper comedian.

I’ve been looking through our recent photographs of JFGP with a view to posting some highlights of his new found walking talents here. I was trying to find a way of describing just what a big thing this is to all of us at Chez Todd when I came across this post by Eric Meyer, where he talks about his daughter who has also just started tottering about the place. Please go and read it because it encapsulates perfectly the joy of parenthood. I couldn’t agree more when Eric concludes with;

It’s moving day and I have the keys to our new house in my pocket. Which doesn’t stop me from being in trouble - as usual. Besides the heinous crime of going to work to pay the rent on our new home today instead of being knee deep in boxes I find that I am responsible for my dear lady wife’s complete lack of nutritional input. Allow me to explain.

For those who can’t, or won’t, read the Sydney Morning Herald there were an unprecedented number of sick train drivers and a power fault. Combined they managed to bring chaos to the Sydney rail system and not a single train was on time. Which was nice. I’ve had a few other customer service howlers over the last few days as well. The nice people at Optus have the worst customer service telephone system I have ever had the misfortune to use. On average I had to speak to three people before I got to talk to the person I needed, and this was over the course of four phone calls which should really only have been two. Of course, each new person I spoke to had no idea who I was or knew any of my details so I had to repeat myself ad nauseum.

Yes boys and girls, we’ve bought a new car. Here it is, taking the sun at Cypress Lakes at the weekend. The eagle eyed will have spotted that it is sporting the same window sticker as our last car. It’s probably the only vehicle in Australia with a back window advertisement for Aylesbury’s finest. Something I’m sure the 70’s throwback will applaud whole heartedly. For the technically minded it’s a Honda Accord Euro luxury in graphite pearl with a go faster roof rack.

The small boy is now officially a toddler. He has developed a balancing technique which involves holding his hands out in front of himself, as you can see in the picture. The trouble is that it makes him look like a zombie. This idea has caught on around Reeve mansions and every time JFGP climbs up on his hind legs to perambulate around the lounge a chorus of “Brains, I eat Brains” goes up. Well, it makes me smile anyway.

This is the last mention of the rain, honest. Whilst on holiday we did manage to get out of our room between downpours. On a couple of those occasions we lounged around and in the hotel pool. Here you see SWMBO and JFGP taking the waters. Those strange blobs on the surface of the pool, by the way, are rain drops. You didn’t think it had stopped for long did you?

Bugger. Not only am I missing Ben Folds playing in London next month, but today I found out that Chris Difford and Glenn Tilbrook are getting back on stage together. If I was still in the old smoke I would be there, front and centre singing along slightly out of key. Oh well, I’ll have to console myself with a walk along Manly beach instead.

There have, apparently, not been enough pictures of JFGP on this blog recently. Well here you go folks. Behold number one son lording it over the king size bed in our room in Phuket. A place where he is entirely too comfortable if you ask me. Why were we inside? Well it was raining of course.

You may not have noticed, but there’s an election for president of the world next week. I think this quote sums up my feelings rather nicely; Many of us believe that what’s best for America need not also be what’s worst for the rest of the world.

There is, as yet, no documentary evidence but JFGP yesterday officially became a toddler. The record so far is about fifteen steps unaided. It will come as a surprise to no-one that the sure fire way of getting him to “walk” involves holding out a piece of food. I’ll post a picture when I or SWMBO are quick enough on the draw to get a photo of the little man in motion.

After a short break the daily photo is back. During my hiatus I spent a week in Thailand with SWMBO and JFGP. They rather enjoyed it. I got rather wet. As this picture illustrates. Some advice for potential travellers; check the seasonal weather forecast before booking your holiday. Going to Phuket in the rainy season is not nearly as much fun as when the sun is shining - or so I’m told.

We may have no house and car (although that’s coming soon) but I have started to add up the reasons why it’s good to be back in Sydney. I returned, not really triumphant, to Wakehurst Tennis Club this morning. As the world changes the tennis club stays the same. I was just a little bit rusty but was still made to feel welcome and no one laughed too loudly at my serve.

Monday. Had a lovely day with various Grannies and Grandads. I didn’t see Daddy much, but when I did he was saying lots of naughty words. Later on when it was after my bed time we went to a strange place and climbed on board a paraffin budgie. Daddy complained that he couldn’t get any lager. Tuesday. I got confused because by the time we got off the second plane Mummy and Daddy said that Tuesday was over and that I had to go to bed. Which wasn’t fair because I hadn’t been able to play all day. We arrived at the new place and it was raining: quite a lot actually. Daddy said some more rude words.

If I weren’t leaving the country tomorrow I would be off to see my travel agent to fire him. He convinced us that our trip to Thailand this week would be fine, and that the weather would be great - “But why is the hotel so cheap?” we asked. It should have prompted a little research. Still, better late than never. So this morning I took a look at the upcoming weather forecast. Bugger. For the next ten days Phuket will be hot, humid, and graced with thunderstorms every single day. So much for a relaxed beach side holiday.

After eight days with only dial up internet access we are now esconsed at the in-laws where I find that the PVC Santa has had broadband installed. So I am now delighting in downloading and erasing all of the spam emails I have received. Not to mention removing all of the distinctly off colour comments that have appeared on my blogs. If I get a moment tomorrow I will fill you in on the delights of having other people doing your packing and the value of advance planning when trying to avoid excess baggage charges.

At least, that’s what my name means. I’ve known it for years. Courtesy of Simon.

Many thanks to all who turned up last night. Many mojitos were supped and unsurprisingly I feel as rough as a badger this morning. Sadly the removal men are turning up any minute now so there is no rest for the hungover. As an inevitable part of this my fat pipe is being turned off and blogging may suffer as a result. I’ll try and keep some notes of our move to another continent and post them when I get access to the internet. Failing that I’ll be back in about a month.

There are less than two weeks before we leave the country and this is our last week in London. SWMBO has graciously allowed me a last night out on the town. The removal company arrive tomorrow and then we are off around the country until we leave. The details are; The date: Tuesday the 21st of September, 2004 The time: From 6pm until you get bored of my company and go home The venue: Cubana, 48 Lower Marsh (near Waterloo Station) Directions: http://www.cubana.co.uk/about/waterloo.phtml

May I present the first in what may be a long series of pictures of JFGP taking a kip. It’s not posed, honest, but he has managed to snooze in some very impressive places, not least of which was Twickenham stadium whilst forty odd thousand people were screaming their heads off. This example was from our recent sojourn to Amsterdam, where Alexander George decided that he liked the pictures of Van Gogh so much that he nodded off.