Author Archive

See my face? This is my face before I weighed in.

OK so there’s been fizz and some red and not so much cake but plenty cake toppings. Exercise has been on hold while the wee one sorts his digestive system out. Any further than a 30 second sprint away from plumbing wasn’t really an option iykwim (sorry grown up Paul, reading the archives, your butt has meant business this week but thank you for taking this photo of me, you’re a star!).

What bugger said onwards and upwards?

Gonna git you!

Time for some serious carb deprivation next week.

Onwards and downwards!

My quick Friday morning fix – really wish they’d put these photos up on Thursday’s this side of the Atlantic sometimes!

Original

Basic Fix

Fix 1

Fix 2

Fix 3

A comment popped up at the end of my Best Laid Plans post a couple of weeks ago that sent me into a grinning flap. A blank one at that.

Ian Hamilton QC – he’s over there on my blogroll, is a bit of a folk hero of mine and I’m not overstating that.

He has a full and detailed Wikipedia entry you can go check out, but the story my father told me of Ian Hamilton took place on Christmas Eve 1950 when he and three fellow Scottish Nationalists liberated the Stone of Destiny from Westminster Abbey and returned it to Scotland. Its rightful home.

It was especially magical to me since, then and now, I’m from Scone.

On the morning of April 11th 1951 the stone was left on the high altar at Arbroath Abbey, where on 6th April 1320 the Scottish nobility had gathered to sign the Scottish Declaration of Independence, you know the one….

“…for so long as a hundred of us are left alive, we will yield in no least way to English dominion. We fight not for glory nor for waelth nor honours; but only and alone we fight for freedom, which no good man surrenders but with his life.”

Or was it? It’s part of modern Scottish folklore that the stone found there that morning was a mere replica and that the real stone is secreted away somewhere safe to this day.

In a 2008 movie of their escapades, Stone of Destiny, Ian was portrayed by Charlie Cox, he of Stardust fame.

I don’t think it’s gilding the lily to say that their actions gave Scottish Nationalism the kick in the arse it needed, and continues to need to this day… just a boot now and again to remind us what we could be and stop dwelling on what we once were. Ian lands a good number of them over on his blog, which I thoroughly enjoy and believe every person of voting age in Scotland, and even younger, should be encouraged to read.

In November 1996 the Stone of Scone was returned to Scottish soil amidst much fanfare and laid out in a display room at Edinburgh Castle. As far as we in Scone are concerned it aint home yet.

So now you hopefully understand why I was grinning and flapping a bit when he asked me to write a few words for his blog on a subject of my choice.

How blank can a mind go?

After a bit of correspondence and despite disagreeing with much of what I said, he published my post on his blog last night.

I’m tickled pink, I’m grinning insanely and so honoured.

And I can’t wait to tell my Dad!

Good luck Julie Rivera and I’m glad I’m not judge material. I’m just having a giggle trying to guess the top 10 at iHeartFaces again. As a sulky teenager I used to do this with the music charts. I was always listing and filing and trying to predict who would be No1 next week. It’s impossible to do these days as the radio stations and music channels play songs and videos for weeks before they are released for sale. If a song is going to make No1 these days it has to go straight there and, before downloads were counted, it usually disappeared just as quickly. In my day (jeez Louise that makes me sound old) songs were nurtured and they grew on you as they grew in sales. If something slammed into the No1 spot it was on artist reputation alone as nobody had actually heard it before it was released. It was a rare thing. I’m not going to prove what a sad chart trivia geek I was by listing the UK “Straight to No1’s” up until 1987…. not even if you say please… but I will join your pub quiz team for cider.

I’m giving myself a shot at 56 points this week by guessing at both categories. 2 points for each guess that makes the real top 10 and an extra 3 if I get the winner right.

Kiddywonks

1. Three Ring Circus 2nd
   
2. Green Grass Grows 6th
   
3. Buttons & Bows & Twinkling Toes
4. The Lost Lens Cap 1st
   
5. Fertile Mertile
6. From Chaos to Grace
7. Life After Project Baby Sister
8. A Vivid Imagination
9. Jamie Michaels Photography
10. Big Boats and Baby Girls 7th
    

Grownups

1. Amy Riley 7th
   
2. Life With Our 3 Boys
3. Mt Hope Chronicles
4. Pixels Perfect
5. Halsey Happenings
6. Hei Yan
7. Blog Baby
8. Fresh Sushi
9. The BLAH BLAH BLAHger
10. Kerrys Ramblings

come over and have a photo taken with your Mum

ooh go on!

your sister’s not dressed yet and your brother is taking his monthly shower

go on!

it’s for iHeartFaces

you don’t even have to take your eyes off the TV

no I won’t make you smile

look I won’t even look at you OK?

thanks toots

Everything I read is telling me that portraits work best between 55 and 70mm focal length. But when I set my lens to 55mm, to get much of my face in the shot would require the sort of freakishly long arms that would earn me good money in a travelling circus showing off my talent for touching my toes without bending over. There’s not much of my face I can fit in without morphing into some weird looking alien kinda thing. And focussing? Aye right! I resorted to growling at my stinking beloved camera. I quite enjoy insulting inanimate objects,  especially belligerent ones (I suspect these two states are mutually exclusive but ykwim?).

This is as far away from my face as I could get with my unfreakishly short arms and remain vaguely recognisable as me for iHeartFaces self-portrait week. Yeah – I am swearing at gently cajoling my camera – can’t you tell?

Incidentally this is majorly big in the steps type thing as I have spent considerable energy over the last 15 years avoiding being photographed at all costs having knitted cooked myself 60lbs. At first I would simply run away but as I gradually lost the ability to respond like lightning for fear of dropping my sandwich I had to be more creative with finding things I could shove  in front of my face (as opposed to in it). Usually a nearby portable child sufficed (as a barrier, not lunch). It dawned on me recently that if the proverbial bus got me tomorrow there would be little proof of my existence left behind. So I may as well start with a wee example of my gentle cajoling.

Talking of focal length and freaky morphed things here’s Poggy at 18mm looking, quite frankly, unlike anything I’ve ever given birth to.

Spot the difference? Nah me neither.

Spotted this sign post on the way to the SECC today to see Cirque du Soleil’s Quidam, which was absolutely outstanding and quite rightly did not allow any photography, I think it’s the first “gig” I’ve been to in years that wasn’t totally spoiled by a sea of mobile phones. Anyway – the sign – yeah – sounds like a fun place  ya think?