Journal

Sofa so good

Our first few days of parenthood have gone by relatively smoothly, which is why there’s been nothing of note to report. I mean, Elisha has pretty much done all the generic baby things of wanting fed, sleeping, and doing the messy bit that comes from being fed.

Yesterday we took her out to the retail park and put her in her buggy for the first time. The fact she was out like a light the whole time meant that a fairly uneventful traipse round the shops was missed by her in its entirety. In fact, she slept most of the day yesterday, which I thought would lead to a restless night. When it came to it though, she woke at around five, I took her downstairs, fed and changed her, and we were back to bed within about forty five minutes or so and she slept until after ten. Not bad going, from what I’ve been told.

We did learn an important lesson regarding over feeding last night. We’d been told that if you over fed them they’d barf it back up. That’s entirely correct, as the stairs, Fliss, her dressing gown and all the other clothing involved can testify. Elisha seemed just as surprized by the barfing as we were, and lay there blinking in wonder as we hurried around her cleaning things up. I’m kind of glad she realised that there’s no use crying over spilled milk… even if you do spill it after consuming it.

I know I’m throwing stones from the limited cover of a glass house here, but due to the banality of the above, you’re mostly going to be getting stuff in the same vein as the Can A Lot story and the usual wry comment on anything I deem noteworthy on here.

Baby stuff, however much of an effect it’s having on our lives right now, will make only a limited appearance on the site. As her due date approached I vowed not to turn into the kind of parent who gushes endlessly about their kids, and I want to try to stick to that as best I can. It’s not that I don’t think Elisha’s wonderful – she’s certainly the most impressive thing I’ve had a hand in creating. I just think you can over egg the pudding somewhat and, as Elisha demonstrated last night, too much of a good thing can be sickly.

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Journal

The last days of Can A Lot

Behold ye!

This mighty structure hath protected many a fine man from the slings, the arrows, and the catapults of enemies from far and wide who would dare come and challenge the hallowed ramparts of Castle Can A Lot.

Gazeth ye at the fine construction – employing the highest quality materials from sources as far afield as Australia and China. Well, from what I couldst tell from yonder advertisements upon the box of moving pictures, Fosters comes from down under and ye Asda stir fry sauce is probably from the lands of the far east. But I digresseth.

Many hours of hearty work, and drinking, were put into the building of Can A Lot over the festive season. Take a step back, clicketh ye picture, and beholdeth once more the majesty of Can A Lot.

Who would have thought that such a solid construction could have been felled by the great dish washing incident of early 2006?

Not I.

However, once the crockery of doom had collapsed into the eastern rampart of Can A Lot, ye writing was on ye wall. And ye materials were on ye kitchen floor.

Castle Can A Lot may have gone to ye great recycling bin in the sky, but in the final days of this fine metal and glass structure, some breathtaking images were captured. Clicketh ye and be agast: Can A Lot; entrance, Can A Lot; North Rampart

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