Category: Journal

It’s been quite cool the last couple of mornings driving to work, surrounded by a snowy landscape. Sadly it hasn’t been cold enough for it to hang around for too long – something I used to really like when I was little was when it was snowy for the best part of a week and you could get to enjoy it.

I suppose with all the traffic chaos it causes I should be glad it’s over and done with by mid day, so I can get home without too much hassle. I do remember some great times when I was little where the snow would open up a whole avenue of fun to be had that wasn’t normally available, like rolling giant snow balls to make snow men, along with throwing the smaller ones.

Sledging is another obvious snow related activity, and when I was wee the best place to go was the steep banks in Hermitage Park. My mum and auntie Helen would take me and cousin Iain (who’s coincidentally skiing in France right now), as well as Snowy the dog. Snowy was a great name for a dog to have when it was snowing – even if he was yellow. Loads of kids used to go to the park and sledge on anything they could lay their hands on – trays, boxes, bin liners, you name it. One year Snowy had chased so many kids down the slope that they were all calling on him and he was just joining in the fun, checking to see if they were okay when they tumbled to a stop at the foot of the hill. He got his name in the local paper, actually, because a journalist had been there with his family and remembered “Snowy the dog” when he was writing it up in the days that followed.

Another unique snow related thing was Jam Snow. This was tapped from the vast reserviours of genius that reside within the mind of Crazy Uncle John. He would collect fresh snow and add jam, then serve in a bowl with a spoon. Stifle that cringe – acid rain and pollution hadn’t been invented back then, or at least I didn’t know about them, so Jam Snow was a rare treat.

Around a year ago I mentioned that I’d hurt my left knee while skateboarding. That wasn’t when my knee first started hurting, of course – it’s been bothering me for years. The skateboarding incident had made it worse, though, and since I planned to do a lot of running last year I figured I better get it seen to.

So, after we moved to a new area and registered with a new doctor I asked him about it and he said it’d probably sort itself out.

Not so. Through all of the running and tennis that I did last year, I could always feel something wasn’t quite right.

I finally went back to him last month and, although he’s not exactly the most personable of chaps, he at least sent me to get an X-Ray this time. I thought it was quite good fun, to be honest. Being the kind of kid who loved getting “I’ve been brave at the doctors today” stickers, I quite like being the center of attention while they fuss about you at hospitals. Maybe I’m just needy.

Anyhow, the results came back last Friday and it turns out there’s nothing wrong with the bones in my knee, so it’s definitely tissue damage of some nature. I kind of expected that. The doctor said that I could “leave it and see if it gets better”, but that was like deja vu all over again, so I took the second option, which was referral to the hospital to have the whole camera in the knee thing done.

I’m still waiting for the hospital to get back to me with my appointment details, not that I’m in any rush to endure this kind of thing, but I’d rather get it seen to while I’m still youngish.

I figured that whatever damage I had done over the last few years, I’m not going to make it any worse with some moderate exersize, so I’ve been running and cycling at the gym like usual. Besides, I’m thinking that when I eventually go under the knife to get this thing fixed, I’ll recover faster if my legs are in good shape to begin with.

At the tail end of January there we went up to Scotland to show Elisha off to the relatives and to attend the wedding of our friend Ian Binnie. Going back home for a weekend is always a busy affair, and this time was no different.

Driving up on the Thursday, we stayed over at Campbell and Claire’s place, where we introduced Elisha to their little one, Cailin, who has a three month head start on Elisha. The girls let Campbell and I go to the pub while they talked all things babies, which was a welcome escape for both of us, although admittedly we talked about babies too, before turning to proper man’s stuff like cars and football.

On the Friday we drove down to Helensburgh and had dinner at my mum’s place so that Great Aunties Helen and Mary could join in the photo opportunity with Elisha. I must say that Elisha behaved very well despite all the noise and attention. Cousin Iain and I escaped to the pub to meet Uncle James after dinner, where we enjoyed a few drinks before heading home early in preperation for the long day to follow at the wedding. In keeping with tradition, I managed to talk Iain into walking along the road to Mr Kebab when we got back, the legendary Helensburgh outlet of all things tasty.

During the hours that followed our return from Mr Kebab, Elisha demonstrated her new found power over myself and Fliss by keeping us both awake in her first real “bad” night since she arrived on the scene. It wasn’t the best preperation for the day ahead, but I guess this kind of thing is going to be a feature of life from now on.

The trip to the wedding was a complete nightmare – the merchant of death who was driving the minibus obviously had no experience driving a long wheelbase vehicle and how she didn’t manage to kill the lot of us on the way to the castle is beyond me. Just for reference, if anyone else is planning on charging us a tenner a head for the privelage of scaring the shit out of us for two hours on the way to attending your chosen event; forget it!