Age milestones are often reason for moments of reflection and sometimes moments of realisation. Sometimes these moments also strike when you least expect them.
Ka's brother hit the big 3 - 0 yesterday and we celebrated over a slap up meal in Angels, the local hotel/restaurant. Colin, with two birthday badges pinned to his shirt at each nipple region, done his best to avoid the cameras after, what must have been, the thirtieth pose under his big helium balloon. Back at the McGarva house afterwards, for cake and coffee, we all participated in the usual game of pass the parcel, presided over, as ever, by Morgan.
When I say 'usual', no game in the McGarva house is ever usual. This one in particular was no exception. Instead of passing the usual layered up present it was decided that in this game we were to pass a near deflated balloon, the size of a disected kidney, around the room, to the gawd awful sounds of the latest 'Glee' album. Whenever the music stopped, a moment that was all too brief in my meagre opinion, the person with the balloon was out and whoever was left at the end of the game was named winner with a present. The presents varied in quality from a can of deoderant to the more substantial clothing or candles bought in the recent Next sale.
Ka, for instance, won a small sleep suit. Grace quickly pointed out the prize was not specifically for her, which was just as well as the label read for a size of 3 to 6 months. Ka, with her sister, Angela, immediately started awing over the suit.
Letting me view her win, I held it up before me, holding it by the shoulders. A small, pale brown felt giraffe looked back at me from the front of the suit's chest and the scale of it hit me. Not the scale of the giraffe, although it was very small, this wasn't the scale factor hitting me. This small suit was for a small person, the same small person growing inside KA as we passed a stupid little balloon around the room. That small instant turned into another of those worryingly giant, earth spinning moments in which you give an internal shout in the great David Byrne tradition, "My god, what have I done?!"
As Byrne's crazed, panic stricken hollers faded in my head it once more gave way to quiet, curiousity and excitement. Just as I started to relax again and the world settled back into normality around me I was sure the small giraffe winked at me knowingly from the sleep suit. Blinking hard, I hurriedly returned the small piece of clothing to Ka and ran off to the kitchen, for a strong cup of tea. I would have loved to had something a tad stronger, like the Glenmorangie Colin was dishing out, but I was driving home. Behind the wheel of a large automobile, to my beautiful house, with my beautiful wife.
Wednesday, 21 July 2010
Thursday, 15 July 2010
The Sarah scream and teddy bear violence
Mum and Dad hosted another BBQ on Saturday and this time invited the entirety of the family, including the McGarvas, Symingtons, Taylors and all. Not to be put off by the worse weather thus far this summer, Dad erected two large tents and a gazebo in the garden, fitting each of the tents out with carpets, comfy chairs and tables.
The BBQ was also the perfect opportunity to tell everyone of Baby Reid. Mum and Ka were especially looking forward to hearing the 'Sarah Scream' when my cousin heard the news. Cousin Sarah is renowned for her scream when either something really exciting, shocking or hilairious happens. In this case it could probably be described as a case of all of the above as, true to form, when Ka told Sarah in the conservatory, she let out a belter. The birds of Chapelton abandoned their branches in fright, the sheep and cows in the surrounding fields faltered in their grass munching, looking up with curiousity and Myra the hairdresser accidentally chopped someone's fringe off next door.
Needless to say, most people had a few beers through the afternoon and enjoyed the BBQ spread along with Grace's lasagne and Linda's traditional trifle. Whilst people's bellies digested the veritable onslaught, the rain kept falling but failed to put a dampener on things. In early evening most of the the blokes retreated into the living room for the World Cup runners up game whilst the kids presented various puppet shows emotionally blackmailing or forcibly bullying us into attending (I was probably one of the latter). These often descended into teddy bear violence with various Princess dolls squaring up to large teddy dogs all eventually transforming into a spinning cloud of felt and fur, whilst us viewers politely watched struggling to keep up with the show's plot. None of the performers were even puppets?! I bet Auntie Tricia preferred the puppet shows of old... When Baby Reid grows up a bit, he or she will be taught how to perform a proper puppet show.
Everyone has been great on hearing the Baby Reid news (apart from Myra's customer). Facebook has even proven itself to be almost useful in aiding with this. We did get one complaint from someone finding out on facebook, but to be fair to us, it was not actually on facebook, it was my blog at Reidnet, so there! -)
Anyway, thanks everyone for your well wishes. They're all greatly appreciated. Excitement and joy is now officially over - let the stress and panicking commence!
The BBQ was also the perfect opportunity to tell everyone of Baby Reid. Mum and Ka were especially looking forward to hearing the 'Sarah Scream' when my cousin heard the news. Cousin Sarah is renowned for her scream when either something really exciting, shocking or hilairious happens. In this case it could probably be described as a case of all of the above as, true to form, when Ka told Sarah in the conservatory, she let out a belter. The birds of Chapelton abandoned their branches in fright, the sheep and cows in the surrounding fields faltered in their grass munching, looking up with curiousity and Myra the hairdresser accidentally chopped someone's fringe off next door.
Needless to say, most people had a few beers through the afternoon and enjoyed the BBQ spread along with Grace's lasagne and Linda's traditional trifle. Whilst people's bellies digested the veritable onslaught, the rain kept falling but failed to put a dampener on things. In early evening most of the the blokes retreated into the living room for the World Cup runners up game whilst the kids presented various puppet shows emotionally blackmailing or forcibly bullying us into attending (I was probably one of the latter). These often descended into teddy bear violence with various Princess dolls squaring up to large teddy dogs all eventually transforming into a spinning cloud of felt and fur, whilst us viewers politely watched struggling to keep up with the show's plot. None of the performers were even puppets?! I bet Auntie Tricia preferred the puppet shows of old... When Baby Reid grows up a bit, he or she will be taught how to perform a proper puppet show.
Everyone has been great on hearing the Baby Reid news (apart from Myra's customer). Facebook has even proven itself to be almost useful in aiding with this. We did get one complaint from someone finding out on facebook, but to be fair to us, it was not actually on facebook, it was my blog at Reidnet, so there! -)
Anyway, thanks everyone for your well wishes. They're all greatly appreciated. Excitement and joy is now officially over - let the stress and panicking commence!
Thursday, 8 July 2010
The scarey and fantastic
We're sitting in a small white room. A feint humming ringing through the air under the large, square tile like lighting. Agitated, I wait. The computer opposite me stares out blankly before the operator steps up to her console. Following a tap on a monitor key pad the operator adjusts the screen to suit her eyeline and settles down to input the vital information. Tapping gently on the keypad I grow impatient, waiting. Reaching the end of her inputting the operator switches the monitor to a blank, black screen, her palm rolling over the cursor ball on the right of her console. Then, taking control of the controls with her left hand a blurring vision sweeps through the blackness on screen. A grey cloud swerves through the black. Then it appeared. Through the blackness an image materialized. A small, fuzzy image formed in greys and blacks of a small rounded form. A head, large and round, curved down over a body, identifiable by the rivets of a small spine. The surrounding oval of blackness shimmers as the body moves, as if sensing the scanner. A baby. A Reid baby.
Ka smiled at me from the medical bed as the radiographer moved the ultrasound scanner over her lower half of her tummy. Ka is pregnant. 13 weeks and five days to be precise.
Obviously we've known for at least a few months now, but seeing the moving image on screen makes it all real. Properly real! After our first anniversary at the weekend, relaxing in Troon, we began to get a little nervous as the week went on knowing we had the hospital appointment on the Thursday.
As Ka sat and watched the images I questioned the radiographer about the baby's movements and it's body parts, identifying one from the other. Parts of the live image remain dark and cloudy making it difficult to make out some of the features. Baby Reid even stretched as we watched. It's arms lifting up as it tilted it's head back and seemed to straighten his back. I say 'his', but, of course, we don't know the sex yet. As we talked I tried to suss the radiographer out as to the gender but she wasn't giving anything away. Apparently one of a babies first senses to develop is it's hearing so its now time to give up the swearing. Ka had been talking to her belly occasionally in the past few months, using emotional blackmail to clinch the last magnum from the freezer and such like. While I had been previously dismissing the idea I should maybe now start talking too. Introduce myself. Time to start getting used to the idea of being a father?! Scarey. But fantastic!
Ka smiled at me from the medical bed as the radiographer moved the ultrasound scanner over her lower half of her tummy. Ka is pregnant. 13 weeks and five days to be precise.
Obviously we've known for at least a few months now, but seeing the moving image on screen makes it all real. Properly real! After our first anniversary at the weekend, relaxing in Troon, we began to get a little nervous as the week went on knowing we had the hospital appointment on the Thursday.
As Ka sat and watched the images I questioned the radiographer about the baby's movements and it's body parts, identifying one from the other. Parts of the live image remain dark and cloudy making it difficult to make out some of the features. Baby Reid even stretched as we watched. It's arms lifting up as it tilted it's head back and seemed to straighten his back. I say 'his', but, of course, we don't know the sex yet. As we talked I tried to suss the radiographer out as to the gender but she wasn't giving anything away. Apparently one of a babies first senses to develop is it's hearing so its now time to give up the swearing. Ka had been talking to her belly occasionally in the past few months, using emotional blackmail to clinch the last magnum from the freezer and such like. While I had been previously dismissing the idea I should maybe now start talking too. Introduce myself. Time to start getting used to the idea of being a father?! Scarey. But fantastic!
Monday, 28 June 2010
Out of the office
Well, after a blissful two weeks off it was back to work this morning. Back to the Monday morning faces. Faces struggling to look cheerful, happy or interested after their own blissful two days off, enjoying the Scottish sun (not the newspaper), more than likely a few glasses of beer and a Sunday of laughing at the english football team.
Finally growing a bit fed up of the footie, Ka and myself went to the flicks yesterday afternoon and seen Woody Allen's latest effort, 'Whatever Works' coming out of the cinema into the rain.
The rain! The long forgotten, wonderful rain. People were once more walking around glasgow with umbrellas, taking shelter under shop archways in their shorts, some stumbling around with twisted faces, eyes stinging as their facial suncream ran into their eyes with the raindrops. Yes, the clouds are back, just in time for going back to work so I was quite happy to spend the day in the office, cheerfully greeting folk on my way in as always and getting the afore mentioned grunts of greeting (if that).
My, usually cheerful, 'hello' as I walk down the office to my seat is always nice to keep going. To most it's the only time of the day I speak to them, something I'm quite glad of depending who it is and, I'm sure, something most people in the office are quite glad of.
It's always very boring though when someone asks you what you done with your two weeks off. No I didn't go abroad, no I never went away anywhere nice, and yes it was nice just to be out the office. Okay, okay, in other words I done nothing! Nothing, okay! Nothing! And I'd do it again I tell you! Hahahahahaha! (Jump out the window...)
Of course, that ain't strictly true, I got up to lots of things but things I'm not going to tell anyone at work about. Not because it could be damaging to my career or anything, just because they wouldn't be the slightest bit interested. Some of them were, it has to be said, impressively polite today by pretending to be, bless 'em. But why would they? And quite right, as soon as you start rhyming off some of the 'lots of things', they start moaning internally, chastising themselves for being polite and then drifting into dreamland, a glazed look coming over their eyes as they start wondering when their next tea break is. Recognising this, I kept it brief, cutting it down to the 'best of' moments, trying to make it all sound just as exciting as two weeks in the pirate infested waters of the Caribbean or a hand gliding trip over Europe. "Oh well, at least you weren't in here" they'd say. It may not have been the most exciting of holidays but it was certainly pretty nice just to get out the office.
Finally growing a bit fed up of the footie, Ka and myself went to the flicks yesterday afternoon and seen Woody Allen's latest effort, 'Whatever Works' coming out of the cinema into the rain.
The rain! The long forgotten, wonderful rain. People were once more walking around glasgow with umbrellas, taking shelter under shop archways in their shorts, some stumbling around with twisted faces, eyes stinging as their facial suncream ran into their eyes with the raindrops. Yes, the clouds are back, just in time for going back to work so I was quite happy to spend the day in the office, cheerfully greeting folk on my way in as always and getting the afore mentioned grunts of greeting (if that).
My, usually cheerful, 'hello' as I walk down the office to my seat is always nice to keep going. To most it's the only time of the day I speak to them, something I'm quite glad of depending who it is and, I'm sure, something most people in the office are quite glad of.
It's always very boring though when someone asks you what you done with your two weeks off. No I didn't go abroad, no I never went away anywhere nice, and yes it was nice just to be out the office. Okay, okay, in other words I done nothing! Nothing, okay! Nothing! And I'd do it again I tell you! Hahahahahaha! (Jump out the window...)
Of course, that ain't strictly true, I got up to lots of things but things I'm not going to tell anyone at work about. Not because it could be damaging to my career or anything, just because they wouldn't be the slightest bit interested. Some of them were, it has to be said, impressively polite today by pretending to be, bless 'em. But why would they? And quite right, as soon as you start rhyming off some of the 'lots of things', they start moaning internally, chastising themselves for being polite and then drifting into dreamland, a glazed look coming over their eyes as they start wondering when their next tea break is. Recognising this, I kept it brief, cutting it down to the 'best of' moments, trying to make it all sound just as exciting as two weeks in the pirate infested waters of the Caribbean or a hand gliding trip over Europe. "Oh well, at least you weren't in here" they'd say. It may not have been the most exciting of holidays but it was certainly pretty nice just to get out the office.
Monday, 21 June 2010
Someone's nicked the beach!
I'm still getting burnt as the sun is still out over Scotland. The clouds were quite heavy looking when we got up this morning for Ka's last holiday but by two o'clock the sun was back out once more, blazing away, incinerating many a Scottish skin cell. It's been a great week. We've went to the beach, attended a school sports day, watched a fair bit of the old World Cup, enjoyed a few pub lunches, had a few pints in the sun and seen a few movies, including the severely odd 'Greenberg'.
On Saturday Ka and myself drove down to Largs to visit the seafront once more only to find someone had nicked the beach. I was sure there had been a sand beach there when I was a kid. I had vague memories of visiting the shows of the seafront when I was wee and going to Nardini's for an ice cream before running down to the sandy beach. However, I must have been getting my coastal towns mixed up again (I hate it when that happens!). Largs has never had sand, only pebbles.
Not to be undeterred I spread the car's rug out over the rocky beach and lay down. It took a short while to shuffle and squirm around until I had made a decent Michael shaped indent in the pebbles underneath in order to lie in some degree of comfort, but I got there in the end, convincing Ka to join me. We ended up relaxing in our indents for a few hours, watching the ferry come and go for Millport more than a few times and people of all shapes and sizes attempt skimming stones over the shimmering waterfront. I barely managed 3 bounces with my stones but according to the World Skimming Championships, (http://www.stoneskimming.com/), it's all down to the distance the stone travels rather than the amount of bounces. From what I could tell I skimmed just as good as the rest of them. It would have been a different story if Dad had been there.
Needless to say, Ka and myself came home a little burnt, even though we had been applying the sun cream. My prominent forehead shining a magnificent shade of luminous red which has, thankfully, now calmed down. From the looks of it the sun won't be going anywhere quite yet though.
On Saturday Ka and myself drove down to Largs to visit the seafront once more only to find someone had nicked the beach. I was sure there had been a sand beach there when I was a kid. I had vague memories of visiting the shows of the seafront when I was wee and going to Nardini's for an ice cream before running down to the sandy beach. However, I must have been getting my coastal towns mixed up again (I hate it when that happens!). Largs has never had sand, only pebbles.
Not to be undeterred I spread the car's rug out over the rocky beach and lay down. It took a short while to shuffle and squirm around until I had made a decent Michael shaped indent in the pebbles underneath in order to lie in some degree of comfort, but I got there in the end, convincing Ka to join me. We ended up relaxing in our indents for a few hours, watching the ferry come and go for Millport more than a few times and people of all shapes and sizes attempt skimming stones over the shimmering waterfront. I barely managed 3 bounces with my stones but according to the World Skimming Championships, (http://www.stoneskimming.com/), it's all down to the distance the stone travels rather than the amount of bounces. From what I could tell I skimmed just as good as the rest of them. It would have been a different story if Dad had been there.
Needless to say, Ka and myself came home a little burnt, even though we had been applying the sun cream. My prominent forehead shining a magnificent shade of luminous red which has, thankfully, now calmed down. From the looks of it the sun won't be going anywhere quite yet though.
Monday, 14 June 2010
Anything particularly amazing
What an great day! Ka and myself are off work for the week and we didn't do anything particularly amazing at all but it just felt great... does that make sense? Perhaps it's just the joys of not being in an office and simply spending time with my lovely wife... and the tv.
We both slept till 9am, not caring when we slept till. We had a marvellous breakfast in the form of Ka's cheesy scrambled egg but then almost fell asleep again watching Philip Schofield on the forever dreadful daytime tv. Saying that, 'This Morning' is not the worst of daytime tv, there's all those horrible bargain shows on the BBC channels and the horrifying woman panel show 'Loose Women' but, needless to say, I made sure the remote didn't even flick in that direction.
Going out we decided to take full advantage of the sunshine, and headed for the gym. On Saturday, lying on a beach in Ayr, I heavily burnt half my head and face. I woke up on Sunday morning, moaning, looking like a bad impression of Harvey (Two-Face) Dent from the Batman movies after the acid attack. The heat in the skin affected seems to tingle and burn everytime I venture outside or edge near a window so I was quite happy to avoid the sun for most of the day.
Spent an hour and a half in a quiet gym, which was something different in itself as we seemed to have the run of the place. Following this we then went for a swim in the club's pool, inadvertantly annoying some old ladies that obviously usually have the pool to themselves on a quiet Monday afternoon. How dare we swim in their club pool when there's only three free lanes. These ladies made a point of crossing lanes a few times, together with exaggerated splashing, as we swam the lengths. I splashed them back, growling with my burnt face.
We then came home and I attempted some gardening out in the front lawn before a bit of housework. All this hard work quite rightfully earned me some brownie points so I sat and watched the football. A rather unexciting Japan v Cameroon game, followed by the highlights from the Denmark/Holland game. Turning the channels after this I found an episode of Who Do You Think You Are? which centred on the wonderfully irascible Jeremy Paxman coming to terms with the fact he's half Scottish. His Great Grandmothers family, on his mothers side, grew up in the slums of Glasgow, just as I mother's side did and then emigrated to Canada just as my Gran and Granpa almost did.
After this I again flicked the channels to find an episode of the sixties cult classic 'The Prisoner' with the late, equally irascible, Patrick McGoohan. Then, dinner in the form of some superb tacos followed by the Italy v Paraguay game. Possibly the most football I've watched in one day ever. In fact, today was possibly the most tv I watched in one day, for a long time. However, I did somehow manage to fall asleep watching Italy. That was the dinner's fault though, not the football. Not that Ka had laced the tacos with sedatives or anything! I don't think she's that fed up with me yet... it's only Monday after all, she's still got another four days to go!
We both slept till 9am, not caring when we slept till. We had a marvellous breakfast in the form of Ka's cheesy scrambled egg but then almost fell asleep again watching Philip Schofield on the forever dreadful daytime tv. Saying that, 'This Morning' is not the worst of daytime tv, there's all those horrible bargain shows on the BBC channels and the horrifying woman panel show 'Loose Women' but, needless to say, I made sure the remote didn't even flick in that direction.
Going out we decided to take full advantage of the sunshine, and headed for the gym. On Saturday, lying on a beach in Ayr, I heavily burnt half my head and face. I woke up on Sunday morning, moaning, looking like a bad impression of Harvey (Two-Face) Dent from the Batman movies after the acid attack. The heat in the skin affected seems to tingle and burn everytime I venture outside or edge near a window so I was quite happy to avoid the sun for most of the day.
Spent an hour and a half in a quiet gym, which was something different in itself as we seemed to have the run of the place. Following this we then went for a swim in the club's pool, inadvertantly annoying some old ladies that obviously usually have the pool to themselves on a quiet Monday afternoon. How dare we swim in their club pool when there's only three free lanes. These ladies made a point of crossing lanes a few times, together with exaggerated splashing, as we swam the lengths. I splashed them back, growling with my burnt face.
We then came home and I attempted some gardening out in the front lawn before a bit of housework. All this hard work quite rightfully earned me some brownie points so I sat and watched the football. A rather unexciting Japan v Cameroon game, followed by the highlights from the Denmark/Holland game. Turning the channels after this I found an episode of Who Do You Think You Are? which centred on the wonderfully irascible Jeremy Paxman coming to terms with the fact he's half Scottish. His Great Grandmothers family, on his mothers side, grew up in the slums of Glasgow, just as I mother's side did and then emigrated to Canada just as my Gran and Granpa almost did.
After this I again flicked the channels to find an episode of the sixties cult classic 'The Prisoner' with the late, equally irascible, Patrick McGoohan. Then, dinner in the form of some superb tacos followed by the Italy v Paraguay game. Possibly the most football I've watched in one day ever. In fact, today was possibly the most tv I watched in one day, for a long time. However, I did somehow manage to fall asleep watching Italy. That was the dinner's fault though, not the football. Not that Ka had laced the tacos with sedatives or anything! I don't think she's that fed up with me yet... it's only Monday after all, she's still got another four days to go!
Sunday, 13 June 2010
Balloons and horns
Well, I think we can safely say Austrailia are out and Germany have proven themselves to be up for the fight to the semi finals of the World Cup. A great game to watch.... obviously not if your Austrailian mind. Now that their star player, Tim Cahill, is off after a dubious red card, I doubt they've got much of a chance in the group. But what do I know? I mostly only pay attention to football when there's a World Cup going on and even then I've got to ask Colin McG about the points system. And when is someone going to ban those horns? They're enough to put you off watching the games. Vuvuzelas they're called, I think. They're not even tuneful! I'd rather have Rod Stewart singing over a tannoid as the game went on... no, on second thoughts maybe that's going a bit too far. I'm sure even the Vuvuzelas are more tuneful than him.
Colin, Dougie and myself were watching in the living room of the McGarva house whilst Morgan, my niece, fanned us and fed us fruit as royalty, gave us a salon hair treatment and made us perform an unimpressive X Factor audition. At one point we all ended up singing 'Bind Us Together' in full voice. The neighbouring family through the wall were most probably tutting with disapproval, rolling their eyes and putting it all down to bible bashing.
Praying being something the England fans were probably all doing last night after Green's little manoeuvre with the ball. Dougie was telling me there was another goalie error earlier on today so maybe Green won't feel quite as bad now.
After England's disappointing draw last night, Ka and myself sat and watched the fantastic 'Up', Disney/Pixar's latest movie about the old guy that lifts his house into the air with an enormous bunch of helium balloons and travels to South America with the help of a young Wilderness explorer's GPS. A great movie that could never be called a 'kids movie' after watching it - though it certainly makes you feel like one, what with all the whimsical, exciting, colourful ideas. Along with the poignant, touching, life affirming moments this movie made for fantastic viewing and would have probably even cheered up an England footie fan - maybe even an Aussie one tonight!
Colin, Dougie and myself were watching in the living room of the McGarva house whilst Morgan, my niece, fanned us and fed us fruit as royalty, gave us a salon hair treatment and made us perform an unimpressive X Factor audition. At one point we all ended up singing 'Bind Us Together' in full voice. The neighbouring family through the wall were most probably tutting with disapproval, rolling their eyes and putting it all down to bible bashing.
Praying being something the England fans were probably all doing last night after Green's little manoeuvre with the ball. Dougie was telling me there was another goalie error earlier on today so maybe Green won't feel quite as bad now.
After England's disappointing draw last night, Ka and myself sat and watched the fantastic 'Up', Disney/Pixar's latest movie about the old guy that lifts his house into the air with an enormous bunch of helium balloons and travels to South America with the help of a young Wilderness explorer's GPS. A great movie that could never be called a 'kids movie' after watching it - though it certainly makes you feel like one, what with all the whimsical, exciting, colourful ideas. Along with the poignant, touching, life affirming moments this movie made for fantastic viewing and would have probably even cheered up an England footie fan - maybe even an Aussie one tonight!
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