The theme over at The Gallery this week is self-portrait.
As soon as I saw that I knew which photo I was going to use for it. It’s not a recent one – in fact it’s almost four years old, but it remains one of the few pictures of myself that I really love.
I can’t remember exactly how old DorkySon was – just a few months I think – but I do remember that this was the first day after he was born that it was warm enough for us to spend an afternoon out in the garden.
I learnt a new word this weekend. Diurach.
Diurach is the Gaelic name for someone from the Isle of Jura, and I was lucky enough to have three of them staying with me this weekend (although one of them – a friend who I have known for twenty-five years – is a Hearach like me. But Harris is happy to let Jura borrow her for a wee while…) Continue reading
I have a birthday later this week.
I’ll give you a clue. It’s not 20, and it’s not 40, but it’s the big one in between.
To be honest, I’m not really a fan of birthdays. I already eat cake pretty much every week without needing an excuse… and the things that make me happy in life are usually experiences rather than ‘stuff’ so I don’t get excited at the thought of presents. As for standing there blushing like an eejit while people sing Happy Birthday to me *shudders* well, let’s not dwell on that thought.
This year’s a bit different though. While I’m still not looking forward to the day itself, I am quite looking forward to turning 30. Continue reading
Dear DorkySon.
Now you are four!
Didn’t we have a grand old birthday weekend? A night in a lovely hotel on Friday, and a walk round central London on Saturday. We saw the duck boat on its way to the Thames but decided it was too cold to get on one ourselves. You gave a big cheery wave and a hello to every policeman that we saw, but didn’t like watching the guards changing over outside St James’ Palace because you thought their guns and big heavy boots were too scary.
Then home, for your proper birthday; far too many presents from all your generous family and friends – including this wonderful painting of Old Jack’s Boat by DorkyGranny – and so, so much food.
It amazes me, that tummy of yours. It seems you can always fit a little more in… especially if it’s roast potatoes or chocolate cake on offer. But then seeing you constantly running around – climbing under one thing and jumping over the next – it’s no surprise that you need a lot of energy to fuel the engine. Continue reading
I know I’m a little bit biased, but I do think that DorkySon is one of the loveliest boys in the world.
We walked past a shop window the other day that had a huge Victorian doll’s house on display.
“Ooh,” I said. “What a pity we don’t have room for that in our house.”
“I know,” said DorkySon. “It’s such a shame. But come here and let me give you cuddle to take your mind off it.” Continue reading
Dorkymum | Stories from Tasmania 