Whalesong and Bananas

As of the end of last week we have a new Sainsbury's superstore near us and on the opening day staff were handing out maps to help customers find what they were looking for among the many aisles. All well and good until you see how some of the aisles are marked on the map. Sure, plenty of people will be looking for "frozen wellbeing" (who wouldn't?), but I can't remember the last time I went into a shop looking for "ambient fruit".

Actually, I'm sure I have shopped for ambient fruit: the aisle marked as such contained tinned, bottled, snack-packed and otherwise ready-to-eat, non-fresh fruit, so I can only assume that this is grocer-speak for fruit stored at ambient temperatures, or something like that, but honestly, what rubbish!

From Alabama

So I've gone and bought myself a new instrument to learn to play. I was given a ukulele for Christmas, which has had me happily learning a few basic chords, and then spotted this on eBay...

It was listed as a ukulele, and it's the same size as one, but closer inspection showed that there were double courses for the strings and there were eight tuning pegs, despite the fact that it only had four strings at the time. Yup, this was a form of mandolin-banjo: looks like a banjo, but strung like a mandolin. What the hell, I thought, so I put in a bid — and won.

So yesterday I fitted some new strings (a full set of mandolin strings) to the little beastie, tuned up, worked out the fingering, and a few hours later I was playing "Baa Baa Black Sheep" and a couple of other very simple tunes. Very slowly.

The woodwork is poorly varnished and the banjo head bit is damaged and needs replacing, but it doesn't sound too bad, and seems to hold its tuning pretty well. It's another fun toy which I should be able to learn the basics of over the coming months, and looks wonderfully "distressed", which seems appropriate for a folkie instrument. And, of course, it's another instrument that nobody takes seriously (though it's a very short step from that to a number of other instruments, like the tenor banjo or octave mandolin).

But the other one is much more shiny, Sir

Last week we regististered the birth of the Youngling, something which must be done within six weeks of the birth. There were a whole load of questions, <3 signed the register, and we were given the birth certificate. We were then told that this was a short certificate and that if we wanted a full certificate (which would be required by the Passport Office and for some other purposes for which the short certificate would just not do) it would cost us £3.50.

Does this strike anyone else as bonkers? The two certificates both consist of a single sheet of A4 paper, printed out from a computer record, with a manual signature by the registrar. They take exactly the same amount of effort to produce and, though the full certificate is on (possibly) slightly better paper, basically the same demand on consumables. Why, in the name of all that's fluffy, can't they just give us a proper certificate right away and not have this knobbing about with some certificates being more valid than others? If they really have to charge us for something, how about a nice commemorative thingy that looks nice but is useless?

We paid the money — it's not much, after all — but I'm still wondering what planet some people live on and why things are done in the way that they are.

Resolute

Last year I made two new year resolutions: to eat some tripe and to smoke my own food. I achieved neither of these, so I guess they continue to be high on my list of Stuff To Do (TM). However, I did learn to play a musical instrument (badly so far, but you have to start somewhere), something which I have been wanting to do since forever (and, thanks to a great Xmas prezzie I am learning a bit of ukulele too!), and we got ourselves a lovely baby daughter (which had been on the shopping list for a while), so I can hardly count last year as a failure. It was a good year, all things considered.

So what about 2007? Well, no real resolutions but top of the list of stuff to do is learn how to be a father; I suspect this will take most of my time and energy. This will also, hopefully, be my last year with the OU before I get my degree (assuming I didn't mess up last year's project too badly — the results aren't in yet); the OU being as addictive as it is, I am already considering studying music later! On the subject of music, I want to keep practicing with the harmonica, learning tunes and going to sessions; if I can get some competence on the uke too that would be great.

I suppose I should probably give something up, but right now I'm not worried about that. With the demands of parenthood, anything that can help keep me sane has to be a bonus.

A Late Arrival

Well, happy (belated) new year!

After a long wait and a Christmas more full of waiting than anything else, baby B., a beautiful little girl, was born on new year's eve, weighing close to the average for a 2-week-late baby. Mother and baby are, as is traditional to say, both doing well, though this is very tiring for all involved.

So, what have we learnt? Well, some of the points...

• The delivery suite team at the John Radcliffe are superb people, though occasionally run ragged with stuff to do. They looked after us well and helped <3 through a difficult labour to produce a perfect baby.
• Similarly the maternity team at Wantage Community Hospital are fantastic. We didn't get to see how they handle a delivery, but the postnatal care was great and the environment was so much more relaxed and comfortable than the JR.
• <3 is my new number 1 hero after seeing the feat of strength and endurance required to deliver a baby. She was magnificent.
• When it came to cutting the cord, I was handed what seemed like a pair of round-ended kiddie scissors (I guess they don't trust new fathers with sharp objects) which required me to hack a few times before getting through (an umbilical cord is thicker than I imagined though on reflection, given it's function, this is not surprising).
• Sometimes the father's mind goes blank when shown the baby's "bits" and is expected to tell the mother that she has a baby girl. "A boy without a winkie... Wait, I know this one..."
• After recuperation they let you out of the hospital with your baby without having to prove that you will be a fit parent. We felt that it would only be a moment before someone stopped us and demanded to see authorisation.
• Babies take a lot of love and attention. They have simple needs, but do not have the gift of patience.
• Nappies are not that bad really (so far — we are bracing ourselves for that doozy that involves the contents escaping and finding its way to all corners of the babygrow).
• Sleep is something that can only be got in small snatches, particularly for <3, who so far has all the feeding duties.
• You don't need to be quiet when the baby is asleep — in fact, quite the opposite seems to be true.
• After feeding, a young baby has a really goofy, almost drunk expression on her face.
• It can be an amazingly complex exercise in logistics to even leave the house with a baby — can't wait until we don't expect her to sleep through the entire trip (which she did this time).
• Babies are cute, but there is nothing cuter than our own baby when she smiles. (OK, I know that technically it isn't really a smile, but I don't care.)

I could go on. Maybe I'll add more later. What am I talking about, maybe? Of course I will — the youngling is likely to be my number one obsession for some time to come.

So 2006 ended on a massive high note. 2007 is set to be great — though tiring — as we learn how to live as a proper family.

A Full Weekend

That was a good weekend with a remarkable amount crammed into it but still felt reasonably relaxing

Friday evening saw a trip to a nearby meeting for a get-together with our antenatal group, which is turning into a really nice little social and support group. We had the earliest due date for our baby, but last weekend we were gazzumped by one of the other couples, who produced something like four weeks early. We haven't seen them since, but apparently they are doing well.

After this, I dropped <3 back at home and scooted off to the pub to join in the session which was still running. This was a little quieter this time by approximately one piano accordion and four melodeons. The only squeezeboxes present were a couple of concertinas, which seemed a little odd. I think the morris men must have had some other engagement. One point of amusement was a local drunk constantly requesting that someone sing an Irish rebel song, and bemoaning the fact that everywhere he goes people only know one rebel song. Of course, this level of (non-) success may have been influenced by the facts that (a) this was primarily a tunes session, so not many songs got sung (there are usually a handful though) and (b) what the writers of the rebel songs were rebelling against was the English, and the session was full of (mostly) English people in the heart of England. Ho hum.

A good chunk of the rest of the weekend was spent by <3 and meself pottering about at home and around nearby towns buying DIY materials, food, wool, etc., with the rest involving me fitting scotia around the new nursery floor (there are a few gaps, but not bad overall) and painting woodwork, while <3 chilled and knitted. All in all it went well, and I must admit it was nice to go out for a Sunday lunch that I hadn't cooked!

Still no baby, though.

A Whole New World

Sometimes you just have to love the customer reviews on Amazon. The new Katie and Peter album has spawned some awesome reviews. Probably the top of the heap for my money is the one entitled "Two Monstrous Talents", which is a work of genius. Who can ignore a recommendation like: "How can two monstrous talents such as these, who so shun public exposure, have plucked up the courage to make this bold, vibrant statement of artistic splendour? And lets not forget Peter's contribution either"?

Thanks to the guys at The Session for spotting this.

Three Men in a Canal

This Sunday's pub session was very quiet, with only myself (with harmonicas), J. with a fiddle, and W. with a concertina (and occasionally whistle and bodhran), though we were later joined by the landlord and the cajon (that's one of those boxes that you sit on and smack with your hands to make nice drumming noises) which had been presented to him by the band which regularly plays there. Despite the lack of people, I had a great time, joining in on a handful of tunes, starting a couple myself, and spending quite a bit of time just chatting away. While it was light on the music, it was a really nice, relaxed atmosphere and I got to find out a bit about the workings of a duet concertina.

Inspired by the evening, I went home and learnt to play one of the local session standards, The Canal In October (known elsewhere as Le Canal En Octobre), and now I am kicking myself for not tackling it sooner — it's one of those really elegantly simple tunes which is easy to play and nice to listen to. Of course, now I need to learn something to play with it in a set...

Still no baby.

Them Pesky Cats

This weekend I did something that I have hardly managed to do over the last few weeks: get into the garden during daylight. A few days ago I posted about burglars who apparently used a wheel barrow in their nefarious exploits, and Phillip made the comment that perhaps I should worry more about my wheel barrow than my fish. Well, I looked by the shed where the wheel barrow usually sits and it is there no more (and it isn't elsewhere in the garden either). Putting two and two together, it looks entirely likely that our rusty old barrow, with holes in the bottom, was used as a getaway vehicle. D'oh! Did Phillip have insider knowledge?

We'll let the police know, but frankly we could hardly care less about the barrow: I was wanting to get a new one anyway and then this one would need disposal. I think that the main issue is just how open and visible from the road our garden is. As our hedge grows over the next few years, this should improve significantly. It just takes time...

Poster Child

So I finally submitted my final submission for this year's OU course — a project poster and post mortem discussion on the project as a whole. This year was the toughest yet and I genuinely have no idea if I have passed; it'll be about 3 months until I know, by which time I will be well into the next course, which starts at the beginning of February. If (fingers crossed) I didn't stuff this year's project up too terminally, then next year will be the last course I need to finally earn my degree. If I did fail, then I'll have to do another project the year after, making for 8 years of study in total. It's a long road...

In other news, still no news on the baby. <3 is now at home on maternity leave and finding it quite hard work to do anything at all at the moment. It is a little over a week until the official due date (for what that is worth), so it won't be much longer one way or another, but I'm really hoping it comes sooner so <3 can be able to walk again.