My Extremely Handsome Son George Goes Around The World Twice.

This bit of ball control is called 'around the world'. It involves moving the foot 360 degrees around the ball, and still keeping control after completing the move. It is a difficult enough skill to complete one turn. Here in this video my extremely handsome son George, manages to turn his foot around the ball twice!

You have to be fast to do this skill. Don't blink or you will miss it. The double happens at about 48 seconds in.

Bonnie the ginger cat appears to saunter casually by. Do not let her apparent disinterest in proceedings fool you. She is attention seeking, and always tries to get into the act!

George is not an attention seeker. This I believe, is why he loses control of the ball, when I mention that I'm going to put this on my blog.

He is a good lad though, and has made no objection to me doing so.

Surprisingly blogger has let me upload it too. It is doing so as I type. However this has happened before. The last time it told me an upload was successful, hardly anyone managed to actually see it. I'm hoping for better luck this time.

Around the world twice. That's quite something!

I just had a warning appear. Something about high memory usage. I'm not giving up though. The world deserves to see my extremely handsome son's achievement!

Here I am again. After saying I'm not giving up. I have. Blogger told me it had completed the upload, but still carried on uploading! I think an hour and a half is too long. I'm off to youtube. See what I can do there.

Looks like youtube managed it. Now I just have to get it from there to here. Hmm.. How did I do that the last time?

Success at last! I hope.

Here he is then. My extremely handsome son George in action. Sorry about the delay.

For some reason I find that bit at the end, where he loses control when I mention putting it on my blog, very funny!

Sadie The German Shepherd Loses Her Legendary Cool For A Moments Rant.

He is so full of himself these days. It's, John can do this, and, John can do that. John is so clever. John can sing. John can write. John can paint. Well so what! So can millions of other people. But they don't go on and on about it. They don't have to write a blog about every aspect of their lives. I'm sick of it!

He isn't that clever you know. If he was really clever, don't you think he'd have money in the bank, instead of continually trying to catch up with an ever increasing overdraft? He is nearly 65 years old for heaven's sake, and he still hasn't got that Harley Davison motor bike, he's been dreaming about since he was a kid. Pathetic! Really, I am sick of it all.

Do you realise what he did the other day? When he uploaded that song? Did you notice? In case it didn't catch your attention I shall tell you. Listen to this. He put that song, ironically called 'I'm here for you', at the top of the blog.

What I'm getting at here, is, that he put himself, 'Mr Bloody Wonderful', ahead of his extremely handsome son George. He literally relegated his beloved son, into second place. Unbelieveable! After George, coming back from feeling ill, had achieved so much in his last youth football match. What a blatant example of self importance.

I hope John reads this, I really do. I hope he feels bad, about putting George into second place, and I hope he gives a bit more thought to others next time.

Now then, I know how important you readers are to him, and I do not in any way want to alienate you, but please, please, stop praising him quite so much. He is beginning to believe his own press. There is a real danger of his head getting even bigger, than it already is.

Me and John. The sunlight doesn't do him any favours does it?

To finish on a happier note. Here is a picture of me and old 'big head' having a cuddle. I am the slightly hairier one, with the big eyes.

                                       Lots of love. Sadie xxx

That Was The First Anniversary That Was.

Oh no! I missed the first anniversary of this blog. I was so looking forward to it too. Trouble is, the weather has been so nice these last few days, that I have been outside mostly.

Last Friday I went and did some street portraits in town. I've decided that I am going to do really quick portraits this season. Hopefully I can do one in five minutes.

Friday was a practice run, and I did find a couple of customers. One elderly lady, and one baby. Babies are so difficult to portray. I know we can all see things in our own offspring, but mostly, all babies, look very similar to me. I think it's the lack of defining features. Never mind I managed to please it's mummy. That's the important thing.

On Saturday I went to Chichester, and spent several hours there drawing. Very busy place, and I did quite well.

I think I am going to enjoy these very quick portraits. I'm only charging £5. So they are affordable for most people. I am aware how tight money is during this recession.

Time to dust down the street easel.

This is just a quick post. It is warm and sunny outside, and there is lots to do in the paddock.

Thank you all for the kind comments, about Paul's song. I really do appreciate them, and what a confidence boost! I shall have to sing lots more for you. Only joking! I want you to keep visiting, not scare you away!

See you again soon I hope.

I'm Here For You. A Song. Performed By Me. Written By Paul Forster

I liked this song from Paul's blog so much, that with his permission I have had a go at singing it myself. My intention was to record it at open mic, but I took so many pictures of my extremely handsome son George in his last youth football match, that I ran out of camera memory. But Paul did say he would like to hear my version, so here it is on Utube.

Sedge and Jon who run the open mic events, will probably upload snippets on Utube soon, so I will try to put a link to that on here later.

Mind you, once you have heard what I have done to Paul's nice song, you may not wish to bother! But I think the lyrics are smashing!

Here is a link to Paul's blog. The World According To Paul. I'm sure he would like you to visit.
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I mentioned the football just now. Would you believe it, my extremely handsome son George felt unwell before the match, and couldn't start the game. The teams were evenly matched, and at half time neither side had scored.

George felt better, and ten minutes into the second half, he came on, and changed the game. He scored one goal, set up two more, and the final result was 5 - 0 to us. A great way to finish his youth football career both for George and his team.

Did I feel proud? Oh, Good gracious no, not me! Pride is a sin. Isn't it. But my goodness. Didn't my boy do well!

Avisford United Youth FC

George is onside, and that ball is about to end up in the back of the net!

Only joking! I was proud of him really. I was glowing with it!
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Something else nice has just happened. John and Yola my lovely neighbours have invited me to share their meal. Kedgeree. It will be delicious. Yola is the world's best cook, and that's a fact!

The End Of A Footballing Era.

Twelve years now I've been taking my extremely handsome son George to his football training on a Wednesday evening, and to the match on Sundays.

Great ball control!               Click on pictures to enlarge.

That has finished now

This Wednesday just gone, was the last training session for his team, and on Sunday they will play their last match together, before they all go their separate ways, and head off into manhood.

When he strikes the ball, you had better get out of the way!

Twelve years I've been taking him to play a match on Sunday mornings. Rain, hail, sleet, or snow. I have stood on the touchline, cheering the boys on.

I have been soaked to the skin, and frozen to the bone.

He may be the smallest on the pitch, but he can still knock you flying!

I have been told off, warned off, sent off, called rude names, challenged to fights, and been the challenger. I have a tendency to get carried away you see.

I have been a referee, a linesman, a white line painter, a clearer up after wayward dogs, a filler in of holes, and a litter picker.

My extremely handsome son George.

I have paid the training fees, and the match fees. Although I have to admit that on occasion, when I have been short of money, I have avoided catching the club treasurers eye.

Look at the size of that goalkeeper! Is George bothered? Not a bit.

I have paid what I considered to be ridiculous prices for astroturf boots and football boots.

Despite my dislike of buses and coaches I have travelled miles on them to away matches.

I have cried with my son at times, but mostly we have laughed and had fun.

Twelve years.

I wouldn't have missed a minute.
 

Some Ads Have More Impact Than Others.

Look at the advert that appeared on my blog page this morning.

Unfortunately, as you probably know, we bloggers aren't allowed to click on our own ads. Which in this case, is such a shame.

What wonderful self control I have. What extreme mastery of my emotions. I love stockings and suspenders!

No, seriously I haven't looked. It's not allowed. Honest, I haven't.

Oh all right then, I have. I'm a weak foolish man. I admit it.

Sorry!

But only for being weak and foolish.

Not for looking.

Or for being a man!

Botanical Walk With Sadie The German Shepherd.

What a lovely, warm spring day.

Yesterday I spent a lot of time preparing my portable easel and art paraphenalia, just so, that when the weather is like this, I am ready at a moments notice to head off and do quick portraits in town.

This morning with the sun streaming through the mollicroft windows, I was up early, and full of good intentions.

I said goodbye to Sadie the German Shepherd, and Bonnie the ginger cat, promising them that I would not be too long, and that if I made plenty of money they would both benefit from it. I didn't say goodbye to the hens, because they never listen, and for once Sunny Jim the cockerel, was nowhere to be seen.

I loaded up the car, sat behind the steering wheel, and started the engine.

It was at this point I thought to myself, sod this for a game of soldiers, I'm going for a walk!

For a few seconds, about two actually, I felt swamped with guilt and self doubt about my lack of application.

Then I switched off the engine, and, went for a walk,  is just exactly what I did!

Sadie the German Shepherd admiring daffodils. Click to enlarge photos.

Celandine and stinging nettles.

There is a ladybird hiding here.

A nice little pebble.

Primroses.

Moss in a discarded cast iron container at side of railway track.

I will do portraits tomorrow. Definitely. Maybe.

Sunny Jim's Pheasant Encounter.

Sunny Jim the cockerel is becoming very proprietorial about the ladies. Although at the moment the 'Wing Commander' still has the upper hand, or should I say wing, when it comes to who is in charge.

They are both very good natured as cockerels go. But I suspect that when Sunny Jim realises he is younger, fitter, and stronger, he will be the big man around here.

Until this morning I had never seen any sign of aggression from Sunny Jim, so I was surprised at his violent reaction to a wild pheasant who had come to help himself to some of the hens food.

The poor pheasant tried to escape, but could'n't get back through the wire fence. What a carry on!

Of course Sadie the German Shepherd, hearing the commotion, tried to get involved, probably with a view to eating the pheasant.

Between us there was a lot of shouting, barking, clucking, and squawking, but eventually after reasoning with everyone, I was able to calm the situation.

The pheasant, despite all the shenanigans, somehow regained it's composure, and managed a dignified retreat. Sunny Jim developed a sudden romantic interest in the little black bantam, and Sadie the German Shepherd, returned to gnawing on a bone.

Me, well I was an emotional, and exhausted wreck! So I went and had a lie down to recover.

Bonnie the cat, was eating her breakfast at the time this happened, and was not involved in the fracas. Which was very fortuitous for the pheasant!

PS Blogger is saying this was posted by Artful Little Sketchbook. This isn't true. It was posted by me Don't Unplug Your Hub. I don't know why this is. Or why my signature has suddenly acquired a white border!

My Secret Blog Secret Is Out!

I have spent ages trying to start a new blog. I wanted it to stand alone, and to be completely separate from this one.

My intention was that it would start from scratch, and I would not mention it to anyone. I just wanted to see if it would attract any attention and build up followers on it own.

In fact I did get it started. Opened a new google account and password, just to make sure it didn't link back to this one. But will google let me back into it? No they won't. I have got a headache trying, and I was getting annoyed. It takes ages to think of a blog title that hasn't been taken already. I couldn't use the same title again, so had to spend ages trying to think of a new one. Eventually I just amended it a little to put on here.

Does all that make sense to you? No, me neither.

I won't be writing much on it. It is simply about any drawings I do in my new little sketchpad.

So it doesn't stand alone after all. It has the privilege of you, my lovely readers as followers.

Sorry to inflict it on you. Blame blogger, they started it!

Of course you don't have to look at it. In fact as I write there is nothing on it to see. It'll probably be a dismal failure anyway. As nothing compared to this one!

Oh well, onwards and upwards!

A Highly Professional, Though I Say It Myself, Look At Birds.

I am very pleased to inform you that I am now a professional bird photographer, and have, despite the excruciating pain in my big toe, right foot, doctor informed, been hobbling around the place, capturing many of our avian friends, who grace my place with their presence and visit my bird table.

A big white duck swimming, or might be just floating. Click to enlarge.

I have to say this bird photography is remarkably simple. Here is a photo of some small brown birds, a few little ones with blue bits, some yellow bits, and one even had some white bits, and a robin. I recognised the robin immediately, without even looking in my book! At least I think it was a Robin. Hard to be certain, because it had it's back to me. In all honesty it could just have been another brown one. But it was quite fat!

Various birds. Look closely, the big ginger one is a hen. Click to enlarge.

Now then, how exciting is this? Not one, but two buzzards circling in a blue sky! I was so excited that I managed to capture this. Many bird watchers with far more experience than me, have never taken a photo like this. They might not be buzzards. Hey, they could be eagles. Even more exciting! No, we don't get eagles around here. They could be escaped from a zoo though. Although that would have made the local news, and I've heard nothing. Yes, probably are buzzards. Far too high to be certain. On the other hand perhaps they are little brown birds and just look far away because they are small. No, I think they are buzzards, definitely!

Buzzards. Possibly. Click to enlarge and be certain.

Can't you see it? Click to enlarge.

The above photo shows quite clearly, if you look closely that is, a brown bird with a bit of white on it. It is on the table, lower right. Yes it is!

This next shot is nature in the raw. Not only does it show a large black bird, possibly a crow, or maybe a rook, but, and I did not spot this at the time, there is a wild cat, carrying a rabbit! It could be my cat Bonnie. I have had the feeling lately that she is fed up with dry food. At least it is not a bird!

Nature in the raw. Click to enlarge.

Well, I do hope you have enjoyed sharing my new hobby with me, and that your life has been enriched by the experience. Why not have a go a bird photography yourself? You might one day reach my standard of expertise. Although that is most unlikely. But never give up. I didn't. As you can plainly see.

I realise that you might be tempted to copy these photos, but I have to tell you I claim copyright. Oh all right then, help yourself. We're all friends here.

A Bit Of A Rant. Then My Solution To Rising Fuel Costs.

Have you seen the price of fuel? Diesel, which I use, was £1.48.9p per litre today! Bloody robbery! It's not the retailers fault. About two thirds of the cost is tax!

What is it with this .9 of a penny? Have you got .9 of a penny in your pocket? No, me neither. It doesn't exist! They round it up to a penny, that's what they do, the thieving...!

Sorry about all the exclamation marks. I'm just so furious.

They take us for mugs, this government. Well, not just this government. Whoever is in power. They are all the bloody same!

Why do they do it? Because we let them, that's why. I'd organise a mass rally in protest if I could afford to get there!

I have to think now, before I jump in the car, whether I can afford the journey. Most of the time I can't.
It doesn't help taking public transport either. The fares are astronomical! Do you know why that is? Because of the cost of the bloody fuel!

I have hit upon a solution. Today I got my old bike out of the shed. Poor old bike, it thought it's travelling days were over, and had really relaxed into rusting mode. Sorry bike, but you have work to do. Little bit of oil, some new brake rubbers, air in the tyres, and you'll be as good as new. Almost!

Yes, it won't be long until I am whizzing around the country lanes. I might even join a cycling club. Enter a few races. I will soon be as fit as my blogging friend Paul, who races bikes around New Zealand. You might like to visit his blog. The world according to Paul. I just tried to put a link to it. Not sure how successful I was at doing that. First time I've tried to link elsewhere.

Now then, where was I? Oh yes the bike. Here is a photo. What do you think? I'm quite hopeful that I can rejuvenate the old thing. I can hardly wait to get on it again. I'm serious about this. Now then, stop that. I hear you laughing.

Soon have it looking as good as new!

Oh no! I have just remembered my aching legs. They might not be up for it. Reckon I need a drop of oil too. Cod liver oil, that should do the trick!
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A quick update on the studio demolition.This is all that is left of it. Just the chassis. Need to borrow an angle grinder to chop that up. I will sell the old iron to the scrap merchant. I might earn enough to buy some fuel!

Hey fantastic! I can put my ridiculous bike riding idea on the back burner for a while. Phew! I'm glad I thought of that.

OK Paul, you can relax. The competition just pulled out!

A Martyr To Pain!

I had an x-ray yesterday. Two x-rays in fact, One of the big toe on my right foot, and one of my right shoulder and upper arm. Next thing is another visit to the Doctor to find out the results. I had better make an appointment for that tomorrow.

This is not my foot. My foot is prettier. Also I do not have gout. I can't afford it!

Oh, you are still here! No it's nothing, really! I just thought after those boring opening statements, that you might have decided not to read on. I mean they don't exactly grab the attention do they? But as you are still here...

These two painful areas which I may have mentioned before, are intermittent pains. Most of the time they are just a dull ache, hardly noticeable. But when they decide to make themselves noticeable, by heck! They don't half hurt. I can take it though! I'm a proper bloke me!

If I could get rid of only one of these pains, it would be the toe. This pain comes from nowhere, when I'm walking, and causes me to suddenly stop in my tracks and start shaking my foot in the air, hopping about like a madman, all the while muttering quiet curses such as, "oh you silly toe!" Or ,"oh bother, how frightfully annoying!" I don't swear you see, being a gentleman, and of course I never tell lies!

Incidentally, I don't really know if mad men hop about. It is not a phenomenon I have witnessed. Just thought it best to mention that. I wouldn't want to be accused of being madist. Or whatever ist applies in this case.

The shoulder pain got me today. Or maybe it's the upper arm. I can't make up my mind. What happened was...

Hang on, are you sure you're not bored? Why do you keep moving the cursor towards that little arrow up there?

Look, to cut a long story short, I forgot about my bad arm and twisted it carrying a door. It was painful, and it too, occasioned the muttering of a few quiet curses!

Carrying doors is not something I do very often, and I will try to avoid doing too much of it in the future, that's for certain! Although of course, I may not be able to avoid it altogether. For example, if I see someone who is even older and more infirm than I am carrying a door, I will almost certainly feel duty bound to help them! I will definitely not look the other way. But hey, it may never happen!

I had to lie down till the pain went. Not that it really mattered, because I was thinking of having a lie down anyway.

One of the benefits of being 64 is that you can have a lie down whenever you feel like it, without any untoward comments. In fact people tend to think that having a lie down, is a requirement at my age. To be honest with you, I do tend to spend quite a lot of time in the horizontal. Resting that is. Not like my younger days, when being horizontal was more exciting!

I will of course keep you informed about the x-rays. It's bound to be something really serious! If it isn't, I will look forward to regaling you about the time I had these absolutely excruciating pains in my legs! I know you will find that fascinating.

I'm a martyr to pain you know, but I don't talk about it! I'm not looking for sympathy.

Oh all right then, just this once!

Don't Mention The War.

Maureen was the prettiest girl I had ever seen. She was really nice too, and even though she looked like a goddess, she didn't seem to realise it. Unlike a lot of girls I knew. She was easy to talk to, and always with a smile on her lovely face.

We were courting, Maureen and I. Well I say courting. What I mean is we had dated a couple of times,and I wished we were courting. I was proud to be seen holding her hand. I knew my mates thought I was a lucky so and so.

We were both about 18 years old. At the time I was working on the ferry service between Aberdeen, Orkney and the Shetland Isles. So I was often in Aberdeen, where she lived.

We had arranged to go to a dance hall in Aberdeen. I couldn't dance to save my life, but it was a good way to spend some time holding her close. Oh my word, she smelled divine, and the softness of her hair against my cheek. I used to think I had died and gone to heaven.

There was a German warship in the harbour. The city council had put the flags out for them. They were given a civic reception. I think it was the first time since the 2nd world war that a German navy vessel had visited. The newspapers were full of it. Blimey! It wasn't so long ago since I spent my time shooting Germans. Only in childish games. I don't mean for real. That was my Dad's job!

When the delectable Maureen and I arrived at the dance hall it was full of young German sailors, in their fancy uniforms. We local lads didn't really stand a chance.

A well scrubbed young sailor approached our table. He stood before Maureen, bowed, and asked her politely in broken English if he might have a dance. Hah! He bowed! What a Dork!

I wouldn't have felt so annoyed about it perhaps, if she had looked to me first, but it was suddenly as if I didn't exist. Maureen was up and swept away in his arms. He could dance too! I expect he'd had dancing lessons the swine!

After she had danced with him several times in a row. I was in despair. I should have challenged him to a duel, but I expect he would have been brilliant at that too.

Honestly, I wasn't the only upset one that night. The local girls were having a ball, the local lads were having a bawl! Anyone would have thought the Germans had won the war!

That was it with Maureen and me. We didn't go out any more but I soon recovered. After all I was a sailor too. I had a girl in the Shetlands, and the Orkney islands! Although that may have been wishful thinking. No it wasn't! I did have girlfriends there. Don't know why I said that.

Apparently, why the girls were so bowled over by the Germans was because they were so well mannered! Bloody nerve of it!

Maureen I forgive you. But how could you do it? Had you forgotten that they bombed our fish and chip shop?

Not to worry. I'm over it. Almost!

A Parsimonious Man.

There was no electricity in the crofthouse. We only had candles or oil lamps. As a twelve year old boy fresh from the big city, I was fascinated by this. I soon learned that if a spat on a hot oil lamp glass it would shatter with a satisfying crack. Naturally after a half dozen or so glasses had been damaged in this way, Mum had determined that I was the culprit. Anyway the fascination had soon worn off.

A quick drawing of the little crofthouse. My bedroom was on the left.

One night as I lay in bed in my attic room, reading by the warm glow of the oil lamp, I became aware of something hitting the skylight and rattling down the roof. Someone was throwing stones at the skylight! I got up and opened the skylight. It was my step dad Jimmy.

"Put that lecht oot Laddie!" He said this in what I can only describe as a loud whisper. Translated into English what he was saying was, "put that light out."

He was what can be described as a man careful with money. This was why he wanted the lamp extinguished. The reason for throwing the stones to attract my attention, and the reason for the whispering, was because he didn't want Mum to know what he was saying. He knew that it would lead to an argument about his meanness.

In Jimmy's defence I have to say, that he had lived on his own for a very long time, having become a widower as a young man. He had his way of doing things, and he did not believe in spending his hard earned money too easily. That is not a fault. That is just the way he was.

I think he was too scared of my Mum's reaction if he disciplined me directly. He found her outbursts difficult to deal with. I can't say I blamed him.

But a sixty year old, throwing stones up at the skylight, and feeling he has to whisper! What does that say about him? More importantly though, as far as I am concerned is, what does this say about my Mother?

Big Wheel Keeps On Turning!

It is the year of our Lord nineteen hundred and sixty one. Mum and I are on the road. We have hitch-hiked our way to Inverness in what turned out to be an unsuccessful attempt to borrow money from her sister, my Aunt Nell.

Now, after apparently seeing the light about which side her bread is buttered, Mum has decided it is best if we go back to Jimmy's house. Jimmy being her latest husband who she has recently fallen out with. Probably to do with money. Or her perception of Jimmy as a mean, tightwad. Which is mum's opinion of anyone who won't give her any money.

It is a long journey back, and we are hungry and broke. But not to worry she has an idea how we can earn a few bob.

Years on the road with Fergie have taught her a thing or two. Today we are going to become knife grinders. It is my job to knock on doors, ask if they have anything that requires sharpening and bring it to mum to sharpen.

Personally I have my doubts about this. One of which is my shyness at having to knock on strangers doors. But my main concern is our lack of anything to sharpen a knife with!

Mum reassures me on my first concern. Telling me that Fergie was a knife grinder for years and that people are always grateful to have things sharpened. My second concern about the lack of a grindstone is only slightly allayed when she produces a nail file from her handbag, and declares it more than adequate to the task!

Having been rehearsed on my sales spiel I nervously knock on the first door, which is opened by a smiling lady clutching a small child by the hand.

"Good morning Madam,"  I squeak. "Do you have anything that needs sharpening?"

To my astonishment she does indeed have a couple of knives that are blunt, and would love to have them sharpened. Turning to the child she says, "Let's go and watch the man sharpen them on the big wheel!"

As she turns to fetch the knives I take the opportunity to scarper. I have often wondered what she thought when she found me gone!

My knife grinders barrow. Sadly neglected.

The foregoing little story never put me off the possibility of earning money from knife grinding, and when money was short I would take my own little barrow out and knock on doors. Successfully too! Tricia was very good at knocking on doors also. Her sunny personality always brought results.

As mum said, people always need things sharpening. Garden shears are what people want done mostly.
Hmm, maybe it's time to get my barrow restored. Money is tight at the moment.

An Emotional Man.

Most of the time I am able to portray myself as a confident man. The type who easily gets on with life and deals with all the bugbears that we all have in our lives on occasion.

If you, dear reader, were to approach me with a problem, I have no doubt that I would be able to help you, advise you, make you feel a little better about things. Even if only in a small way. In fact this is the way I get myself through problems, giving myself advice, giving myself a talking to if required. Giving myself the proverbial kick up the backside. Not that this always works!

But the truth is, I am not confident. Never have been. The truth is, I find life a struggle. Emotionally in particular. Apart from my extremely handsome son George, I find it hard to think why anyone would like me as a person. Let alone love me!

How I wish I could say, this is just me, having a bad day. But I can't say that. Because I know who I really am, and now so do you!

Newsflash: Sadie The German Shepherd Caught Stealing An Egg.

The longer days have brought the hens back into lay. These free rangers have a tendency to lay anywhere except the hen house. Sadie sniffs out these errant eggs and occasionally helps herself.

This is a song about an egg stealing dog.

Definitely a guilty face.