Just a quick review of the SECC babyshow (I’ll do a longer review later) as time is pressed, I’ll just do highs and lows… Read More
Picked up a Kodak Zi8 for work purposes the other day, but I’d be a liar if I didn’t say that I’ll be using it for personal uses as well, but how does it shape up as a video camera for capturing the family moments? What’s the good points and the bad points? Is it worth the £120 or so that it costs?
I’ve managed to have a quick and dirty test with the Flip Mino HD and compare it to what I call the PR/journalist mobile workhorse, the Nokia N95, but which comes out better? Or should you stick with an iPhone? (Yes, I know, including the iPhone was cruel.) Heads-up, lots of YouTube video in this.
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Dear Daughter,
Well you’ve just no luck have you? Most girls – IIRC – get to the age of 16 before going to a bash or a party and discovering they have the same outfit as someone else.
You? Age 5. Place: School Halloween Disco. Read More
Dear Daughter, it’s way too early in the morning, so I’m going to introduce you to the concept of bullet points: Read More
Dear Bump, when the sperm that made you was part of me you may have heard me think that your mum could do with losing a few pounds. It’s the only way I can rationalise the amount of vomiting you’re putting her through.
Stand down soldier, you don’t have to do anything to impress me. Just turn up in one piece and that will do, so leave off your mum and let her keep some food down please. French toast is hardly a luxury food and she’s got enough to worry about just now, thinking about if she should get the H151 jab or not, worried about what it might do to you.
And besides, on the food front, I’m dying to go out for a decent curry.
Dear Daughter, as cute as it is that you wake up in the middle of the night and say “only you can help me get back to sleep dad” (what am I? Obi Wan McGill?) and… Read More
Dear Bump, a weekend of making your mum ill. You are most likely going to be the fittest child ever at this rate (going by the old theory of ‘the sicker the pregnancy* the healthier the child’).
Two things are also quite apparent from this: your dad certainly won’t be fit and you may get called Arthur as in arthuritis (or the more common spelling of arthritis) from the spinal damage I’m getting sleeping on spare beds, couches and your big sister’s bed because you’re playing havoc with your mum’s body temperature.
Anyway, goodnight Arthur.
* I don’t think that means watching all the Saw films.
Good little developing thingy. Not only are you now, according to the little iPhone app I have, made it as far as the size of a peach, you also let your mum keep a full dinner down – and seconds.
For that have an extra gulp of amniotic fluid or whatever it is you do in there to chill when you aren’t too busy dividing cells and stuff.
(or perhaps I’m just a damn good cook. Anyway, like your big sister, mum can now expect pasta bake non-stop for months.)