Are you ready for another vitriolic both barrels attack on the shambolic state of the world? Don’t worry, I don’t think I have another one in me so soon after the last one. It takes me longer to recover in between these days you know.
Last week saw day nine and ten posted in an absolute flurry of trip reportage. I admit, day ten only went up today but that still counts. Double figure days mean that we’re getting towards the end now, so for those not a fan of these things it shall soon be safe to return to the trip report section of the Dibb and read about Wizzo’s toilet troubles.
I must admit to finding the trippies a little bit of a chore. A mixture of general busy-ness, a tiny touch of the post holiday blues and a slice of deja vu. I have written about largely the same holiday for a decade now!!
Ignoring the complete lack of funds or the likelihood of having any, we have discussed next summer, and Louise can confirm that we have decided not to go to Orlando again. It’s fair enough. We do fancy the West Coast though. I’m slowly catching up on Jakki’s twelve week long trip report, some of which includes the West Coast and it looks good. We’ve also chatted to my brother and his wife as they have done it a couple of times and say it was their best holiday ever.
So if we find some funds then that would be the most likely place I think. Although Louise has fallen in love with one of the islands in the Caribbean after seeing it on a TV programme recently. I think it was St Lucia. Both are equally beyond our fiscal reach so it hardly matters right now.
That is not to say that my fingers have not found their way to the odd Kayak or Skyscanner recently. It is both a sort of hobby by now and a mild form of torture.
Domestic life is a blur of hectic busy stuff right now. Work for both Louise and I is very time-consuming, Emily is battling her final year of A levels and Rebecca is caught up in a romance. We know this, as we haven’t really seen her, at all, since it all began. This happens, we’re used to it, and unfortunately, we are braced for what is most probably the painful and tearful conclusion, but, we shouldn’t pre-judge and she should of course enjoy it whist it lasts. That is unless she proves me wrong and marries the bugger….in a decade or so.
Don’t know what the pouts about
He’s a nice enough young chap. He’s polite at all the appropriate times, and has no visible tattoos or piercings. So Rebecca is out a lot at the moment, and as much as she won’t admit it, Emily is missing her a bit.
So with all this busy stuff going on, it feels a little hamster wheelish. So Louise has decided to outsource the ironing. The amount of weekend being eaten up with it was getting out of hand so Louise has employed a young fairly willing employee to get it done.
Yes, Emily is now employed as our ironer, and she has done a great job for her fifteen quid. It leaves Louise with lots of free time now to do her course assignments and other fun stuff like tidying the house!
I would outsource the bulk of my weekend’s activity too, but I’m not paying someone else to sit and watch TV whilst occasionally blowing off.
I shall leave you in peace now as it is quite clear I have nothing but inane dross this week, and Emily is waiting for the laptop. I secretly hope this is to complete some complex and detailed piece of coursework. More likely, she needs to add some songs to her phone for lessons tomorrow!
I will try to be incensed about something again for next week to make for some more interesting reading.
Right, let’s have the shameless plugs out of the way first. Day 8 is up and almost worthy of a read, for no other reason that I spent some time writing it.
With that done, off we go.
They do say that nice guys finish last, and unless that is a reference to a male porn star, it is usually said with a certain amount of mocking disdain. I would, if pushed, class myself as a nice guy, having not really done much that would fall into a bad or evil category. Apart from that poo in 1997 that was like a house martin’s nest on the back of the loo and I didn’t clean up.
Still, I think you’d agree that is small beer (unless you were the one cleaning it up).
So with that in mind, with recent events of the world, I do wonder if that adage is depressingly accurate? The world does indeed seem content to be taking itself off to hell in a cart propelled by hand.
A non exhaustive list of proof?
The media is pretty much proven to be more or less entirely corrupt, hacking phones of dead teenagers, printing lies (Hillsborough) and being in close collusion with whatever politician has the most power at the time. The recent findings around Hillsborough seem to demonstrate that the hierarchy of the police, the media and the government were intent on rewriting events for their own benefit. It took 23 years to get anywhere near the truth and still no-one has gone to jail over it.
Politics. Well, of course they all rig their expenses as their salaries, at more than twice the national average are not enough, and most weeks one of them is resigning for some indiscretion or other. That of course is only the stuff we do know about.
Football, the national game is full of racist liars who can’t keep it in their pants, and that is just John Terry. The others are just too stupid to live, such as Ashley Cole, a black man, lying to protect a team-mate who, that’s right, abused another black man, for being black. Then, when the findings were published, showing how he had been found to be lying, along with this mate, he sends an obscene tweet expressing his displeasure. This guy drives a car…on the road….with other people around. He shouldn’t be allowed sharp objects in his house never mind behind the wheel of a car.
Possibly the most stupid millionaire on earth
The church. Not one of my favourite past times or institutions, but that is a whole other rant altogether. The men of God seem to think this gives them a free pass to kiddy fiddle whilst preaching to their flock that they are all sinners, encouraging guilt and saying we should aspire to be like them.
Banks. Well, I used to work for one, but the nearest I got to corruption was taking a quid out of the till to buy my dinner as I had no change. Others it seems, as we all know, were above the law up there in their penthouses. We are still battling through the financial mire, and may be forever more.
And now, it seems the entire world of light entertainment is guilty of the biggest cover up since the bloke on the grassy knoll. Half of the BBC’s stars of the 70s and 80s appear to have been guilty of crimes against puberty, which is bad enough to find out many years later. What is completely intolerable is the parade of has been know it alls who have been grabbing their last five minutes of fame by claiming that everyone knew about it. Yep, that makes you look great! Enjoy the cheques for your stories, they may be the last.
I haven’t even mentioned the tragic case in Wales, which looks like it will turn out for the worst. That is not a subject for a pithy moany rant of a blog, it is just too tragic.
Is there an institution that is actually what it purports to be? Is everything in society rank and rotten? Is the only way to really get ahead to be either a conscienceless buffoon in a football shirt, a scheming politician or a greedy amoral banker?
I’m none of the above, and don’t really have the ambition, drive, ruthlessness or skullduggery to be. And I must admit, I am losing my sense of humour over all this. For us mugs that play by the rules, pay our taxes, and if we had forelocks, tugged them, it seems the spoils of war are less. I know, I know, I am doing fine. Despite the economic Armageddon and everyone else’s best attempts recently, I have never been out of work, and yes I too earn more than the national average, but that, I think, is through hard work and being half decent at what I do.
Perhaps it works the other way? Maybe when you get to be excessively successful and/or rich you begin to think you are charmed and not bound by the laws and morals of everyone else. That might well explain to some extent Saville and Terry. I acknowledge the former is innocent till proven guilty but I’ll take my chances and apologise if he is found to be innocent. I am not too concerned!
The latter is one of the vilest human beings I have encountered. A liar, a cheat, a racist and a thug. Still, he’s good old JT, an English Lion, a good geezer, and apparently is going to keep his job when certainly had I called someone in my line of business a “fbc”, I would be very quickly dismissed.
Mind you had I already been involved in a nightclub brawl (many have forgotten about that caught on CCTV), slept with my best friend (and colleague’s) wife, and assaulted a member of staff from a competitor in front of everyone (the Champions League semi final knee to the back episode, which of course he denied till he saw the replay) then I wouldn’t have been around to get sacked for racial abuse.
I know I am singling him out, and yes all teams have idiots. Barton, Suarez, Merson, Adams, Giggs and countless others have indiscretions they will not be proud of, but I am tired of the blind eye that seems to be thrown to this loathsome character.
I don’t rant often, but I do admit to it in my summary at the top of this blog. Call this a vent of the spleen. When I was growing up, if I had any ailment, from a sore toe to a raging fever to a missing limb my Mum would tell me it was because I was tired. I suspect this out of character rant may be down to the same issue. I feel pooped with busy work weeks, lots of travelling and equally busy weekends, so maybe my body is exorcising this in the form of severe grumpiness.
Still, this is my blog and if I can’t rant here where can I? It’s either this or some sort of Falling Down Michael Douglas episode on the M602 of a morning.
Try to cut in at the cones will you????
I may need a holiday? What do you think?
My grumpiness was not helped last week as I tried to get Emily insured for our raging beast of a 1.0 litre Peugeot 107, so that we can go out and help her learn to drive.
Quotes ranged from £3500 to £9000, and they all went up as soon as she eventually passes. Still, one silver lining was that I vented my rantage to Simon Mayo on Radio 2 for his “Wisdom of the Day” feature. I was amazed that he actually read it out.
Wisdom of the Day!
I think I should go immediately to bed to catch up on some much-needed rest. I’m up at 4am tomorrow for another journey south (weren’t they a crap North East duo from X Factor?) so I think it is for the best.
How long till Christmas? Don’t tell me, it will only start another rant, and nobody wants that.
Just as I start to think I a recovering from post WDW blues, someone does something which brings all those thoughts and longings back.
Twitter is a cruel mistress
As much as I do feel honoured that the chap or chapess who runs the Applebees twitter account found me and decided I was worthy of a follow, as I read that email it hurt.
There were two reasons for this. Firstly it was 4.43am. I was just about to set off down south to get to Head Office for a couple of days, but secondly and mainly it reminded me that the joys of an Ultimate Trio at an Applebees was so beyond my reach that the pain was tangible.
I suspect it is more likely that Applebees will open up some UK branches before we get to go back. That’s right, I am declaring right here, as is my annual tradition, that I don’t think we’ll be back next year. The new house demands attention like a naughty toddler, and more than that, it demands whatever disposable income we are likely to stumble across.
I won’t go on about it, as we all know that isn’t the first time I have been here, so we’ll leave it there and wait and see. It is Emily’s 18th next July, and she has been less than subtle in declaring where she wants to be for it, but that doesn’t magic up the multiple thousands of pounds required, regardless of the amount of guilt I would feel if we didn’t do something special for her.
In real world matters, Louise’s back is improving, thanks to some physio and lots of medication. She should be returning to her hospital placement tomorrow which is excellent news. The physio seems to think that the back problems are caused by a long-standing ankle problem which is forcing Louise to walk in a way that compensates for the pain she feels, and this in turn throws her pelvis and back out of kilter, and leads to her back “going” from time to time. So the end game is to resolve the ankle thing.
The first step (pun intended) in this process is naturally to throw away the £50 trainers she has had for a few weeks and buy some new ones which will be better suited to her needs. Smashing. Should anyone want a pair of black Sketchers that have been worn about six times do let me know. Best price guaranteed!
With Louise mobile again, I am hopeful that we will tonight complete a long-held ambition to enjoy a night with a Bat Man costume in a darkened room. This is not a Shades of Grey type reference, more a 50 pounds of Pick n Mix reference as we are heading for the cinema. Our local Cineworld is still showing the Dark Knight film, despite the fact it has been out since July, and having heard nothing but good things I intend to snack up, settle down and slob out for a couple of hours.
Next week sees me in Manchester, Marlow and London, none of which have an Applebees and this is something I am struggling to come to terms with.
However, my pain is but a low throb compared to the white-hot burning heat of a post WDW depression that @tweetwizzo is feeling right about now, having recently landed back in the UK. He’ll be starting his trip report soon so look out for it. At the rate I am getting through mine, not only will he finish his before me, he will probably have had another holiday too.
Mind you, neither of us seem to be enduring a lack of mojo on a scale to compare with Gordon (The_Finkelstein) who hasn’t been seen much since his return back in the early days of summer. I am thinking of hosting a 24 hour telethon appeal to get him the support he needs in these tough times.
Right, I must go. The X Factor repeat has come on the telly so I need to go and throw it out of the window.
As if I hadn’t let it be known enough already, Day Five is done. If somehow you are missing the social media bombardment announcing these things then you should follow me up and stuff, so I can be all up in your grill n stuff fo shure.
I have noticed, or more truthfully Louise has noticed, there are lots of spelling and grammatical errors in each day. This is a symptom of writing it in my hotel room of an evening, in a bit of a rush. Apologies, and I will try to do better as I hate that sort of sloppiness. As ever, my desire to write a good trippy is exactly balanced out by the amount of time I cannot find to concentrate on it.
Last week I was away again. I did three days in Marlow, enjoying the delights of the Prince of Wales. This is not another royal scandal involving one of them with too much flesh on display, rather the executive level accommodation afforded to one of my lofty status.
I don’t enjoy being away to be honest. At the moment though needs must, but hopefully after the next few weeks I can keep that to a sensible level. It is doing nothing for my waistline I can tell you. Thankfully the Price of Wales is low brow enough not to have the facilities or will to provide a full English breakfast. No matter how good my intentions are the night before, if I wake up and have even half a chance of such a feast, I can only spit at the croissant as I trample folk to death en route to the bangers. Again, that isn’t a Royal reference.
A yoghurt and some cereal are my start to the day, but it is at night where my waistline attracts further girth. I have no issue with sitting by myself whilst eating. After all, I am still eating. To be honest though, I’d rather just sit in the room, watch a bit of telly and relax, so I have taken to going to Sainsburys and getting some tea from there. Something noodly with chicken, some salad, olives with feta and perhaps some chorizo, followed by a family bag of pretzels. Yep, I’m a fat knacker and it must stop.
Next week I just have the one night away, and I am determined to do better. I had resolved to “do better” this weekend too, but I’d only give myself a 6 out of 10 to be honest.
Louise is still suffering quite badly with her back, and despite some brief episodes of relief (again, no Princes involved) it hasn’t really improved at all. Indeed yesterday we spent a few hours in A&E as the pain was so bad. She literally could not sit, stand or lie in any comfort, and as you might guess, that isn’t any fun at all.
All that A&E could do was offer a leaflet on back pain and one dose of Diazepam. Louise necked the tablet and battered the doctor to death with his bloody leaflet. Hopefully things will improve over the next few days as she is desperate to get back into her hospital placement.
I had been looking forward to going to the pictures this weekend to finally watch the Batman film. Yes, Bolton Cineworld are still showing it incredibly. Mind you, Carrie only finished last week. I did get to go to the cinema, but only to transport the girls there and back, as they went to watch the House at the End of the Street or whatever it is called. Emily went with her friend Chloe and Rebecca with her friend that is a boy, Tom. Their relationship is not yet officially confirmed as anything more than that, but they spend more than enough time together for us to guess that she may be playing it down slightly.
Of course, as Rebecca suspects, Louise and I were beamed down onto the planet just before she was born, and we’ve no experience of this sort of thing.
A vest for breasts
As far as I can make out the film seems to be entirely about that girl from the Hunger Games running around in a sweaty vest. Well, I have no objection to that, and Bruce Willis built a career on it.
The girls thought it average though, and not as scary as they had hoped. The fact that Emily slept suggests that this is an accurate review, as at the first sign of a scary film she can go weeks without closing her eyes.
Having ironed, cleaned, made the tea and generally been an all round great guy for most of the weekend, I now intend to enjoy my Sunday evening. I worry for my intentions though as Emily has the remote, and is insisting on X Factor, which I can hear has just started. Louise is in bed and Rebecca out with her not boyfriend. I can feel a wrestling match coming on.
If there is visible bruising tomorrow then I shall do my best to conceal it. I wouldn’t know how to explain them to work anyway.
I shall assume my position in my “Dad’s chair” and see if I can find anything worth watching, that is if I can see the bloody telly over the dog!
Rain, Downtown Abbey, Strictly, X Factor, darker nights, wearing my large pants and a lack of planning. All these are signs that we are entering autumn, and our holidays are well and truly behind us.
So the world turns most years. I am quite impressed that I have managed to get three days of the trip report done, which is a lot more than I thought I might. These low expectations of output were mainly as my return from holiday saw me start a new job…again. I really do want to keep the blog away from work as much as possible, so I won’t rattle on about it too much. To summarise, I was approached shortly after starting my last new job, by an ex colleague about an opportunity where he now worked.
It took some time, but just before I left for holidays it all got sorted and I started as we returned. Suffice to say it is just “better” in pretty much every way, and I’m a happy chap and consider myself lucky to have had the offer.
So on we go, and I really hope we can avoid any further talk of work for quite some time now!
I write this post on the day that is exactly 100 days to Christmas. I only tell you this as I don’t see why I should be the only one to deal with that fact. I simply cannot cope with a Christmas in my condition. There was no pre holiday diet this year, and despite only eating salads for the entire trip (plus the odd Donut burger, and a few desserts) criminally I have added a few pounds. For me though, the first few weeks back afer a holiday are the toughest food wise.
Why did I put weight on????
Whilst away your body is used to taking on food whether you like it or not. Indeed the biggest challenge of most of our days in Florida is trying to convince your body that you are actually hungry even though you have already consumed the calorific limit of a small town already.
So when back in the UK, mix in a massive change to the body clock, and a reduction in calories of around 3000% and you can pretty much guarantee that hunger is a constant companion.
With my new job I have also had to be away from home for a few nights. This means that getting a healthy diet is less than easy. So no doubt since returning, I have added yet more poundage.
So as I was saying about four paragraphs ago, I can’t afford any thoughts of Christmas just yet. So if you are feeling in any way festive feel free to keep it to yourself until around the 15th of December.
In real life news this week, Louise has a bad back. It “went” on Thursday, in a similar way in the way in which it last went in 2010. I know it was then, and can tell you the exact day as we were away in WDW, for my fortieth. I remember her literally having to crawl across the room at Beach Club Villas to use the loo.
Similarly incapacitated this time around she has had to spend much of the last three days laid low, and in a lot of pain. There are signs of returning to normal but she is still struggling.
Emily went to Blackpool yesterday. It was to work on the second part of her Photography coursework. The first half was to take photos in WDW, and then once home do the second half somewhere not quite so glamorous as some sort of contrast. She did OK and enjoyed most of it, apart from the drunken brawl on the train on the way home. She wasn’t actually involved of course, but was very close to what sounded like quite a bad punch up. The police came and turfed them off the train, and Emily and her friend continued their journey pretty shaken up. On top of that Emily has had a bit of a set back, in that it appears she is unable to apply for the Disney Programme she wants to do until she is 18. That isn’t until next July, which would mean she probably couldn’t start until the summer after.
So now, she has the problem of what to do with herself during what is looking like an enforced gap year. Ideas on a postcard please.
Emily has started work at a local charity shop to get some retail experience for her Disney application whilst she looks for proper paying part-time work. Again, ideas and offers of employment are welcome. Her specialist skills are lie ins, Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram and Facebook with a high level of expertise in shoulder shrugging and TV remote control use.
Rebecca’s weekend has centred around a “gathering”. She went to a boy’s house last night with a few friends for a “gathering”. We suspect she has designs on said boy as there has been quite a bit of socialising and tweeting, and the preparation for this casual “gathering” began at around 9.30am on Saturday and she left the house at about 7! It is best that I don’t ask too many questions in these situations, but I have sent the boy in question the customary horse’s head so that he clear of the consequences of any behaviour that may not be in the best interests of my daughter!! These are testing times for a Dad.
So my weekend has been a bit hectic with Louise laid up, with big shops, trippie writing, taxing the girls, tidying etc. Before writing this here blog today we all watched The Father of the Bride for about the millionth time. It is one of our all time faves and one that we can watch time and time again. Each time I do watch it, it reminds me that the events of the film rush ever nearer to us, and whilst I can guarantee that neither of the weddings I will be paying for will be as expensive as the one in the film, I do wonder how I would cope with “giving” them away.
As long as it is in WDW it’ll be OK
Granted, some days I would gladly pack their bags and drive them where they wanted to go, but I have to say I’m not looking forward to that.
So after waffling on about nothing in particular I shall leave you. It is clear that I am not yet back in the swing of blogging and promise to do better next week!
Apologies for blogless Sunday, and this is just a very quick post to confirm that we have indeed made it back home in more or less one piece.
There is perhaps a little more of me sat typing this than typed the last blog update, but such are the perils of a Florida holiday and I am classing every extra pound as a badge of honour for our latest adventure.
The trip report has started, but only just, and Day One, can be found over at the Dibb. Day Two has not yet been started but I hope to get to it this week. Work has had me all over the place since getting back, both mentally and physically. I’m away again Tuesday evening, and this, as it did last week, should give me the time to get it done. There is little else to do in the bustling Metropolis of Marlow (no offence Marlowians).
We are all back into our respective routines, me as I said above, right in the deep end of a load of new work stuff on my return, the girls into their own important school and college years (we’ll have one doing GCSEs and one doing A levels this year!), and Louise’s nursing course now has her in her placement doing some actual nursing.
She’s doing shifts and all sorts, and working hard, as nurses do, but she is enjoying it which is the main thing.
I won’t steal any of my own thunder by talking about the holidays, but I will give you this photo, as I think it made it to Facebook via Emily anyway.
Don’t knock it till you try it!
This was without doubt the tastiest thing Emily and I ate all holiday. Honestly. Right there on that plate are about half the pounds I gained! I shall leave the rest of the story to the trip report, and await the varied comments from “Yum” to “Vomit”.
Normal service next Sunday hopefully, but I shall keep bloggage light so that I can spend the time getting more days done.
I should also encourage anyone who doesn’t already to follow Wizzo from the Dibb, as he is about to embark on what I think is his sixth trip in as many months…something like that anyway. @Tweetwizzo is what you need if you twitter, and I’m sure he will be treating us to food porn and extreme gloating pretty much from Wednesday onwards, and I don’t hold it against him one bit!
So the build up to this trip continues to be anything but smooth.
I just wanted to post a quick update to let you know that our travelling party is down to four now. Unfortunately, my Mum & Dad won’t be coming along as planned due to illness.
Last week they were away in France, and had to fly home early as my Mum was not well at all. To cut a very long story short, she has since been admitted to hospital with what is suspected kidney stones, but no-one is sure of the diagnosis as yet.
We feel gutted for them, as they were so looking forward to going again, and it is a cruel twist of fate to suffer illnes in the few weeks of the year when holidays are planned. It has put a bit of a dampner on the final few days of countdown, and it is hard to see the look of dissapointment and upset on their faces now that we are about to leave.
I know that they will want us to go and have a fab time, so we’ll try our best to not let this take anything away from the trip. My Dad is busily filling out insurance forms, and hopefully he will get back the vast majority of what he has paid out.
With all the “stuff” that we’ve been through in the build up to this holiday it surely is now bound to be the best holiday to be had ever in the history of holidaydom! Here’s hoping.
We’ve changed a bit of the plan in light of this, mainly the fact that we are now doing Airport parking rather than a mini bus, being only the four of us now. I got a good deal (I think) with a meet and greet service at the Terminal kerbside for £44. However, I had forgotten that we’d changed cars recently to much smaller models, and now we’ll be driving to the airport with kids and suitcases sellotaped to the roof. I know I’ll have a seat though so all is well.
So there we are. Surely that is it. There can be nothing else in our way now. I will just be so relieved to finally get going.
Watch out for the occasional update via the usual media, otherwise we’ll see you in September. Onwards!
So dear readers this looks like the last blog before we embark on our latest American adventure. This time next week, we shall be airborne over lots of water, full of barely edible food, anticipation and good spirits.
This will not be new news to you unless this is the first time you have stumbled this way. Certainly if you have the misfortune to encounter any of my social media outpourings, then surely by now you will be sick to the back teeth of smug countdown tweets and over excited nonsense.
As most of you will know, the smaller the countdown gets, the slower time goes by. The last month has been turgid, and now with just a week to go, it stretches out ahead of me like an endless runway of meh.
I don’t know if this is just us, but when we are deciding whether or not to book these holidays, we tend to tell lies to ourselves, such as, we won’t need to spend a fortune on holiday clothes, and we’ll just make do with that we have.
If I lived with three men, rather than three females then this may be doable. It would also be a weird type of family unit! So over the last few days we have been ticking off the essentials of the items required for such a trip.
Blinded by the light
Of course for me this must mean the purchase of some trainers that can be seen from space. I am complete. Other than that though I shall be rocking the same holiday clothes that I have enjoyed for the past decade or so. Why change a classic look?
We’ve done a couple of Trafford Centre trips to get the girls sorted with their staple items of denim shorts and T-shirts. In my next life I am going to be a denim short seller…seriously how much????
Rebecca is so excited that she has more or less packed with a full week to go.
A case of premature packing
Whilst I was taking that picture of Rebecca’s case in her room, I noticed some of the snaps she has on her shelves, and it brought home just how much history we have with these holidays, and what a massive part the place has played in our lives. I can only imagine what that’s like for the girls as it is all they have known really.
I took some pictures of the pictures, so apologies for the quality.
A big PoohWho knows which is which?
This next one is (I think) one of the earliest we have, from 1999, when Rebecca was just two.
I think I’d been drinking
We shall not be attempting a reconstruction of this photo this year!!
So many memories, and it is about this time in the countdown that I try to remind myself to enjoy every second. Even the boring bits like the flight. Who knows what memories we will make this time, and which of those will stick with us for the years to come.
Each year is different with the girls at different stages of course. As young adults now, I look back on memories of them in the photos above with great fondness. The strollers, the extortionate and endless Princess dresses we bought them, and their wide-eyed delight at every character encounter.
We’ve worked so hard for this trip in so many ways, and in equally as many ways we shouldn’t be going. We booked in a rush of blood and crossed fingers, and events have done their best to conspire against us at every turn.
We have dodged every one as best we can, and still we sit here, seven days away from departure still able to go, and determined to have a bloody good time. What happens when we get back….well we’ll deal with that then I suppose. I’ve been working on something that may make those long winter months and credit card bills less depressing, but more of that some other time.
I had a thought earlier this weekend, caught up in the euphoria of Mo Farrah’s incredible race and second gold medal. The country is currently experiencing some of the atmosphere and magic that us Disney idiots revel in. The shared and overwhelming feelings created by an event like this, the massive crowds, the shared focal point of everyone’s attention and goodwill, is much of what the crowds leaving Magic Kingdom after Wishes will feel. When you see photos of a line of Police doing the “Mobot” as the crowds leave is the equivalent of seeing the Cast Members waving you goodnight as you follow the crowds out towards the monorail.
Close your eyes, imagine the perfect heat of an Orlando night, the tiredness in your legs from a full day of touring, and that post Wishes lump in your throat as the perfect background music carries you on a cloud to your exit plan of choice.
Then, the endless twinkling magic of the resorts through windows as you speed past them on the monorail with *that* voice telling you what you know already about staying clear of the doors and which resort you are approaching.
These are a few of my favourite things.
I apologise for the cloying over sentimental tosh, but you will have to forgive me. I am a week away from a trip, not knowing if it may be the last for some time, and I intend to eek every last drop from it, and then some.
Before that of course I have to endure every painful moment of five endless days at work. It appears insurmountable from here, but I’m sure somehow it will pass. Won’t it?
So from a blog perspective I shall see you on the other side, as I cannot imagine updating this whilst over there. We probably will have a laptop with us, but I think the most I will muster is an odd tweet or Facebook update just to remind everyone where we are and where they aren’t. It pleases me.
Now, I have to go and be over excited, over emotional and overweight somewhere else. In this state, the Olympics closing ceremony may well have me in tears, but I suspect that will be for the wrong reasons when the Spice Girls take to the stage. Watching them? I won’t Wannabe!
It is a delight and a relief to finally have it done, as it means that Emily can fully move in at last, but more than that, it means I don’t have to do any more work on it.
I took some before photos a few weeks ago, but to be honest, they were sort of half way through as we had already spent a few weeks in demo mode. You can scroll back to find them I’m sure. Either way, the room was a mess. However, now it is habitable again, probably for the first time in a few decades, and Emily moved in on Tuesday once the carpet was in.
This was the day it wasn’t rainingStop and stairThe walk in wardrobeThere’s a teenager in there somewhereKit and KaboodleBloody cat!
We had a slight false start (or end) with the carpet folk who did a bit of a shoddy job first time round, and it took me in my sternest grown up voice to get them back and sort it out. Grrrr!
We’ve had a bit of a busy week aside from the completion of Emily’s room. On Friday it was our wedding anniversary. Sixteen years this time around. Those quick of maths will have worked out that Emily just turned seventeen, so we will surely burn in hell for doing things the wrong way round!
Being in “skint before holiday” mode we didn’t do much to commemorate the day to be honest. We just went to Pizza Hut with the kids on Friday evening for a very underwhelming dining experience. Not to worry, it reminded us how good the dining will be in a couple of weeks time.
In other news, Louise’s Mum has been in hospital for an operation, which seems to have gone well, and she is now home resting up. Weirdly they operated on Saturday. Maybe they have extended their opening hours for the Olympics like the supermarkets?
This week has also seen Emily and myself survive a high-speed car crash! I took her out on Saturday evening for a practice following her second lesson. She somehow managed to find the only lamp-post in the empty car park we were in, and like some sort of light seeking missile, jammed the front of the car right into it. Apparently the brake and clutch are very confusing when you first start driving. Thankfully, there are no visible signs of damage, and the car is OK too!
Despite finishing the loft, DIY was still unavoidable over the weekend, with a bathroom that needed painting. Well, it needed finishing as Louise had started it, knowing that I would not be able to pee in peace knowing it was half done. On top of that we had to do some floor tiling in the kitchen. I have to admit to doing the handing of stuff to Dad approach on this one.
Add a couple of tip trips, and there you have what has been a fairly typical weekend since the move.
Oli was not to be kept out of the headlines, with an injury all of his own. Getting ready for work on Monday, I noticed he was hopping about on three legs. I ignored him hopeful that he’d got those post poo pins and needles that you can sometimes get if you take too long over your business. Alas, no. Louise confirmed later that morning that he was still limping, and they were off to the vets. Only one word springs to mind in that scenario. Kerching. They did not let me down.
Despite the huge hole in the already swiss cheese like bank account, luckily Oli was quickly back on form later that day, despite what was diagnosed as a fractured toe.
Sometimes, I think I’m living in a very low-budget soap opera with writers that need sacking.
Speaking of soap operas. No writer of one of those could have put together the script that we all witnessed on Saturday night. I speak of course of the Olympics. Wow, what a night. It is rare that a sporting occasion grasps our whole family, but we all sat glued to the action, shouting them on. By the time we got to Mo Farah’s race we were truly hooked, and absolutely blown away by his incredible performance. Well done to all who are making this summer memorable despite the crappiest of weather.
So now we turn to the inevitable countdown ramblings. We now enter those funny last two weeks before departure. I want to wish them away with all my being, but I know that these next two weeks are the same duration as the actual holiday, so as quick as these go, I would hope the holiday goes too. If only.
Several times through the day today we have been doing the “this time in two weeks we will be……” thing. In fact, right now, we will be at Atlanta airport waiting to board our second flight down to Orlando. I’ll have put on my first half stone just with the airport Starbucks and eating the kid’s in flight meals for them before cracking open the three pounds of sweets and Pringles. I’ll be on Diet Coke though.
Until that time comes around there is a fair amount of work enduring to do, no doubt more DIY and tippage, and the usual last-minute prep to go through. I shall really try to enjoy all of that as much as possible, as heaven knows when it might come around again.
This evening whilst doing her homework, (yes I too am astounded that she has given it any thought before the last of the holidays) Rebecca came down stairs with a smoking laptop. Not literally, but it had a blue screen of death. I have since spent the last few hours wrestling with it. Admitting defeat I had to rescue the files we needed off it, and go for a full wipe and restore. It took an age, but I sit typing on it again now resplendent in my own IT excellence. It is the equivalent of returning to the cave dragging a mammoth!
So with manhood proven, I’m off to go and give someone a gun show, and watch the rest of the Olympics. *flexes muscles and gives manly look*.
Excitement in the Williams household is reaching epic proportions. We probably say this every year, but we are definitely in the space of really NEEDING this holiday.
The trials and tribulations of this year so far are well documented here, and they have taken their toll for sure. Even the girls seem much more excited than usual. Rebecca especially, who most years can seem quite cool about “another” holiday, tells me most days that she cannot wait to go.
Emily is of course a confirmed addict, and proved the point again by spending her evening yesterday watching You Tube videos of Disney Parks. Yes, she even cried at the Beauty and the Beast show. She is beyond excited.
I don’t need to tell you how I feel. Apart from tired, you can pretty much guess how I am feeling right about now. The yearning is becoming an actual physical pain.
With pay-day happening this week, the final bits of the planning were completed this week. Firstly, park tickets. I’d always planned to get a 14 day Ultimate, as of course the rule this year is Disney first,second, and last. We tried the no hopper Magic Your Way things a couple of years ago, and if you are doing other parks as well, they can work well, and certainly present a saving, but I absolutely want the flexibility this year of being able to hop, and go for part days.
This plan did not stop me from spending an unhealthy amount of time researching things just to make sure that I could not somehow find park tickets for a tenner. I couldn’t, and therefore went ahead and bought them from Florida Escapes. They say they will arrive within 18 days, which is handy as the countdown stands at 21 currently.
With those in the metaphorical bag, I moved on to the dollars. We always have a card or two along for company anyway, but unlike in the UK, I do like to carry cash too. I did the Money Saving Expert thing to find the best deals. They have a calculator that works out not only the best rate, but the best overall deal once take everything into account like delivery charges.
So despite only ordering them on Friday, they arrived Saturday morning, and I spent a few moments alone with them, having a sniff and a feel. Yes that is incredibly sad, what of it?
So we’re ready, in fact more than ready. For the next three weeks or so, I’m just going to sit on my packed case by the front door waiting for the taxi.
Along with that good stuff, Friday brought Emily back to us, courtesy of Easyjet. We’d missed her, and she was honest enough to admit she’d missed us too. She was suitably brown, and tired, and glad that it was only for a week. As much as she likes her friend, a week of non stop time together is very different to a few hours at college.
I can summarise my week’s other activities in one word….painting. Every evening and most of the weekend have seen us get Emily’s room almost ready for the carpet which we have ordered to come on Tuesday. I never want to see a roller again. I know the room is big, but every time we thought we’d finished we spotted another bit that mocked us with its unpaintedness, or needed a second coat.
Tomorrow, we just need to finish off the white gloss bits, which I’m hopeful Louise and my Dad will have under control by the time I get back from work. If I drive home slowly enough I’m sure they will.
Pictures will be blogged next week, and if anyone sees that I’ve missed a bit, please feel free to keep it to yourself. I intend to burn the decorating implements once we’re done.
I haven’t posted a video here for a while so just to prove I haven’t forgotten how to you can have this one. It is Oli and me play fighting. The teeth and pain are real, and the noise he makes is very silly.
Having now seen my incredible media skills, I cannot let this week go by without doffing my cap to every single person involved in the opening ceremony for the Olympics. I’ll be honest, I was concerned beforehand that we may look a little stupid if we did not deliver something close to our predecessors. Knowing that we were starting the whole thing with sheep and people cutting wheat, you can appreciate my lack of confidence.
Rings of Fire
I have never been more wrong. I loved every minute of it, and was blown away by the whole thing. I even stayed up to watch all 4000 teams enter the stadium, and unlike nearly everyone else I didn’t mind McCartney at the end either. Of course he isn’t what he was, and the voice isn’t there any more, but if any other country had produced The Beatles, and had one or two still alive, you can bet they would have used them too. The alternative was probably Elton John or Coldplay so all in all, I thought it was a decent call.
Danny Boyle did a wonderful job, in taking what could have been (to paraphrase the Muppets) a glorious five hour tribute to all countries but mainly the United Kingdom, and making it cool. As Rebecca would say, he put a banging donk on it. I think that is a positive thing.
Right, I’m off to stare at the clock for the next twenty odd days.
This week saw the end of the school term, which is welcome in many ways. Of course the girls are happy to be off school for a while, but it also relieves Louise from a fair bit of ironing duty every Sunday with no uniform for Rebecca to do, and fewer items for Emily, who is past the uniform stage.
Of course the most important reason for enjoying this milestone is that it is exactly that, another milestone in the countdown. I hate to wish the girl’s summer holidays away, but I will, a bit.
With school done, the main event of this week saw Emily jetting off for the first of her holidays. Her friend’s grandparents have a villa in Spain (Marbella I think) and she was invited to go out there with her friend.
Dropping off is no fun!
So this meant a very early start on Friday morning. It was so early in fact that it may still have qualified as Thursday night. Emily’s alarm went off at 2.30 in the am. As her room is still not ready, and as we did not want her to disturb my Mum and Dad (she is sleeping there at the moment, remember) she slept on our floor on a spare mattress.
So having insisted on setting her alarm for 2.30am, so that she could have a shower, I was delighted to have to get out of bed to turn it off and gently kick her awake. Of course, she could have had her shower the night before and given us all another hour in bed, but no, apparently her hair doesn’t look right in the morning if she does that!
With readying complete we all trudged out to the car at around 3.45am heading for the airport. Yes, we all went, even Rebecca! The drive to the airport only heightened the anticipation of our journey there in a few weeks time. We queued up with them to make sure they checked in OK, as they were flying alone, with the grandparents already being out there.
It did feel very strange waving her off as they trudged off through to security, and we had to head for home, and a very long day at work. As I watched her disappear into the crowds in the passenger only bit, she still looked far too young to me to be embarking on such an adventure alone. She is only sixteen (for a few more days), and she is and always will be my baby. Both Louise and I felt the paternal tug very painfully at that time.
So I was at work very early, and delighted to get a text from her to say she had arrived safely and was eating breakfast overlooking the yachts in the marina. No matter, I tucked into my cheese sandwich at my desk which was equally as delightful!
By mid afternoon I was knackered and headed home early. Bed was not long from claiming me.
The weekend has been a blur of DIY with skirting boards going on in the loft, and as much as I was the usual labourer to my Dad’s skilled craftsman, on Sunday I actually fitted some myself!! This is quite a breakthrough, and I shall be forever proud of those bits of wood attached to the wall.
Now, the painting begins.
The only other news of note this week is Oli’s haircut. It is a little brutal, but much needed as he was hot, knotted and smelly. Mainly the same criteria which determine when I need a haircut too. He does look like a totally different dog though.
Streamlined!
This evening, we are out at a pub quiz with my brother and sister-in-law, and so I need to ready myself. With that in mind I shall leave you with this brief update, and no doubt dominate the quiz with my skills and knowledge as long as the questions are all Disney and food related.
Let us take a moment of reflection. Let us bow our heads and send all of our thoughts and best wishes to someone who needs all of us to support him at this awful time.
Gordon’s back off holiday!
It will be a familiar feeling to most of you reading this, but nothing can prepare you for the full unadulterated horror of that immediate and jarring return to reality.
Judging by the tweetage live from WDW, the times had by the McBains were tremendous and that of course multiplies the horror once back in the UK. I think I say this after every trip, but the UK appears to be in black and white when compared to the multi coloured razzle dazzle of the US. I know of course that spending a holiday in and around WDW, the vacation capital of the word, is not a fair comparison to flying back into Manchester, which of course isn’t, but still this is real pain.
It is the eternal problem. You book a holiday, and the days before departure seem endless. You wish them away, desperate to set off into the magic. Alas, not only do the actual days of the holiday go at normal speed, they whizz past in record time, seemingly like some end of life experience, and before you know it, you are sat on your couch staring at cases that need unpacking and a fridge that needs filling.
I am therefore trying very hard to relish these last few weeks of our countdown, whilst at the same time, counting every second.
To luxuriate in every element of the planning is the key. I spend money all the time, certainly at the moment, with us discovering that our new house and its contents has been held together by sellotape and string, the outflowing of cash if like a fiscal diarrhea. I can tell you that I do not enjoy the spending of one penny. However, when it comes to holiday related stuff, I can actually take pleasure in laying out cash.
This week’s activity has been the booking of our round of golf. It took a great deal of research, again, enjoyable, and after some consultation with my golf partners (Dad and Steve), we have a tee time of 9.10am on the 24th of August. Putting a small dent in a credit card was strangely pleasurable.
Aptly named
That has been it holiday planning wise this week as we are pretty much done. We are approaching the ticket time, where I have to get those booked, and finally wrestle every last cent out of the dollar purchase. I shall savour both.
Back in the real world, Rebecca completed her second week of work experience at a local nursery (child, not plant), and promptly caught an awful cold which sees her currently on the couch watching crap telly. Emily’s provisional driving licence turned up (the paper bit anyway), and more stuff broke in the house.
The weekend has been a little testing to be honest. Saturday saw me punished for my speeding crimes reported some weeks ago. I had to drive to Mold. No, that wasn’t the punishment!! I attended my speed awareness course. I promise I shall never speed again if it means sitting through another four hours of that.
Not my actual course
Due to the aforementioned breakage of stuff, I had ordered our new fridge yesterday to replace the two integrated ones that were, well pretty much broken. I checked the website last night, and it said that delivery would occur between……6.29am and 10.29am. Yep, you read that right. So I was up at 6am. To make way for the new fridge, I had to demolish the integrated unit things housing the fridges, and then get them outside ready to be recycled.
With help from my Dad, this next door neighbour thing has its benefits, we eventually wrestled the bloody thing into bits and out of the house. You will of course have guessed that the new fridge turned up at 10.27am.
It was installed quickly, and that just left me and my Dad to drive around and try to find matching tiles to the ones that should have been underneath the old fridge units but weren’t. No problem, as they can only have been twenty years old!
Two stops later, and we had a sort of match, or close enough for tiles that will be 90% hidden under the fridge. We get them on Wednesday.
A big shop later, and I was back home and ready for bed. It was 3pm.
The loft (almost Emily’s bedroom) is approaching completion, from the builder’s point of view anyway. It is more or less fully plastered now and we are hoping that a couple of days more work from them next week should see us decorating….for about six weeks. The one good thing about gutting that room and starting from scratch is that we’ll know that nothing can break in there. The room will be unique in that respect.
Also please, remember to send Gordon and his family all your support at this very difficult time. I’m sure he will also enjoy you all constantly asking when Day 1 on the trip report will be done. It won’t be long until that is us, and probably most of the readers of this bloggage.
With that in mind, I will just drop in that we go in 35 days!! Ave it!!
I’ve done a lot of writing this week, which is a symptom of being able to concentrate on anything for more than ten minutes again. Which is nice!
As well as last week’s blog of course, I took the time to pen the pre trip report for our upcoming holiday. I have mentioned that we’re going on holiday haven’t I? If you have read it, thank you, and if you left a nice comment even more of a thank you.
It was a bit of a long one, and came a little bit early. There you go, I am limbering up nicely for this year. My innuendo muscle is responding nicely to the training.
I also made a long overdue return to the WDW Dads, and posted an article there. I’d been asked to consider the main differences when planning what our US friends consider to be “very long” trips to WDW. Funny that, as every holiday I’ve been on there seems to flash past in about three days.
Somehow I also seemed to make time to write a guest blog for Lucy over at her Disneyroobs blog. I believe she is having a series of guest writers in the coming weeks, so keep an eye out for those. I won’t spoil things by saying what my post is about, but I doubt it will be a massive surprise to any of you! I don’t know exactly when mine will be used, but don’t worry I will shamelessly publicise when it is.
So I haven’t had much time to do anything else really. I did collect my new car on Tuesday, so I have been getting used to that. It may be a little smaller than my last car (but let’s face it, most cars are) but it still gets the job done!
The other main task of this week has been the appointing of a builder to sort the loft out. As I’ve mentioned, this is to be Emily’s bedroom. It is a fully fledged room already, as the house was originally built with it as a room. However, I don’t think it had been touched very much since. So after two weeks of demo, we are ready for the builders.
The quote was of course much higher than we were hoping, but if we are to do it, we may as well do it properly and not cut any corners.
It is always hard to show a room off on photos, but in the spirit of a before shot, here is what we currently have.
Stairway to a mess
Lofty ambitions
We are using the same chaps that did our garage conversion at the old house, and they reckon within a week they will be done and we can start decorating. Now there is something to look forward to!
We hope to have the whole thing done before Nana and Granddad go to France in early August as Emily is currently sleeping at their house, and she wouldn’t be keen on doing so on her own!
This morning I moved all the boxes we’d shoved up into the loft when we moved in, so that the builders can start work. They are all currently rammed into our ensuite bathroom, so going to the loo in there takes a certain talent and a very good aim for the next week or so.
With that and a bit of house tidying done, I took Emily to the Trafford Centre so that she could get some more holiday clothes for her two, yes two, upcoming holidays.
She is off to Spain with her friend in late July. Her friend’s grandparents have a villa there, and she has been invited along for a week. We took Nana shopping too so that she could step in whenever I wanted to strangle Emily. She is officially the worst and most frustrating shopper in the world.
We returned without violence, and she got herself a load of stuff so that was good. Whilst I was out Louise wallpapered Rebecca’s bedroom. Well, one wall of it anyway. Most of her walls are covered in fitted wardrobes and drawers, but she wanted the wall behind her bed doing in a specially selected (about three months ago) vintage look wallpaper. You see, I would rather go to the Trafford Centre than do DIY!
There is nothing so tiring as walking around a large shopping place. I’m sure they pipe mogadon through the air con. I had that familiar shopping foot ache, and a thirst that could not be quenched.
Emily found it tough going too.
Over tired!
To be fair that was more a result of me watching the end of the tennis. Emily declared it “even more boring than football”. High praise indeed.
After Murray’s inevitable defeat, I made tea, ate it and that leads us right up to now as I sit writing this.
Before I leave you I should say that I am really enjoying the live updates from our friend Gordon, as he tweets and Instagrams his way around WDW. Make sure you find him on a social media site near you, where he is invariably called The_Finkelstein.
He will back all too soon, and I ask you that you all support him at that terrible time. From the look of things he is having an absolute ball, and the back to reality crash may be a big one.
I on the other hand will be deep into my final countdown and I shall be rubbing that in at every opportunity.
With another quiet uneventful week behind us, here we are at blog time once again.
Last week of course meant starting a new job. As much as I was happy to be able to do exactly that, it did not lessen the usual misgivings and apprehension that something like this always brings, even when you’ve been working for (quickly does the maths) 25 years without a break. Wow, I am very old.
Week one went OK. I didn’t do a great deal that I could feel enormously proud of, unless you count setting up my laptop, finding the toilets and making the odd brew. I am in the “too new to be useful” phase, which I hope will not last long. I am expecting to be launched into the deep end from tomorrow, which is preferred to sitting reading induction material!
Typically, since starting the new job, every call I’ve had has been from someone trying to talk to me about a job for which “I am absolutely perfect”. Such is life, and it does take a fair amount of will power to tell them I am off the market, and not be tempted to see if the grass on offer is any greener. I have so far managed to be strong.
With some sort of normality restored, I have thrown myself wherever possible into preparations for our upcoming holiday. Have I mentioned that we’re going away?
Last week that took the shape of completing our ESTAs. I resisted the urge to moan about the $14 charge much as my natural instinct was to do so. Rationally, in the scheme of a holiday costing multiple thousands of pounds, it does seem a little odd to moan about a tenner each to get into the country. Again, I managed to remain strong.
With the four of us assured entry into the US (their economy could not cope with our absence), I talked my Dad through the online process and was relieved to know that we are all allowed to go! So onto matters more fun. I found my way to the relevant website to book us tickets for the Daytona Cubs. With relevant discounts from $7 to $6 for seniors and children, the bill for that evening came out at around £30.
Swing batter, batter, swing.
I am really looking forward to that, especially with Mum and Dad in tow as they have not seen live baseball since the 1980s, when we saw a college game at Boardwalk and Baseball.
These types of activities are some of the few that I enjoy spending money on!
So after my first four days in work, I headed home looking forward to a nice relaxing weekend with my feet up. You really should know better than that. Saturday meant an all out attack on the loft (soon to be Emily’s bedroom). The task was so huge that we gladly accepted the offer of help from my brother and sister-in-law. We were so glad of that help, as the task was more vast than we had imagined.
We thought we’d now just be stripping off the sixty year old wallpaper. For this reason we had secured the services of two strippers. They got very steamy for hours on end, and they quickly removed the necessary items to our satisfaction.
This stripping was the main task, but the real work ( you can guess which the men did!!) was in cutting up and transporting the carpet down two flights of stairs, along with endless bags of crap. Heavy crap too, as most of them contained the walls knocked down last week. We filled a skip and the cavernous back of the Mondeo and still had stuff to get rid of.
However, a long, long, hard day ended with the job done. It also ended with four very tired, stiff and sore individuals. After a gap filled with showers and a nap or two, we reconvened at our house where I prepared a delightful meal of Mango Chicken. We had made this many years ago, but couldn’t find the recipe. Despite having to guess at most of the ingredients and the cooking methods, it turned out very well. Well done me.
We spent the evening absolutely not moving and watching a film whilst our every muscle stiffened up to the point of rigamortis. The beer and wine went some way to lessening the pain.
The evening did not involve the strippers in any way. I was in no fit state anyway.
Sunday surely must have brought hours of endless relaxing? Not quite. A small lie in until around 9am was followed by a tidy up of last night’s meal, and some general faffery until we set off for the bed shop. You may recall we have a bed for the making of the magic? Well, Louise (Princess and the pea) Williams tells me the mattress is too hard.
The terms of the purchase allow us 40 nights within which to swap out the mattress, so this is what we are doing. Louise lay down on a few mattresses and settled on one that should fit the bill. I nodded in the appropriate place, as I’m pretty sure I will be able to sleep on it.
A big shop later, and I was back home for lunch. Following the collection of Louise’s new car last week, I had gotten to thinking about getting one for myself. Now, I love my Mondeo and it has been an excellent car, but I made the fatal mistake of calculating what the pleasure of driving it costs me over a year. Wow. Safe to say it is a holiday’s worth.
99% of the time, I am sat in it all on my own so it’s sprawling expanse is largely wasted. To cut a long story short, we went back the garage this afternoon and picked out one for me. Between the two cars, we should be saving a whole chunk of cash every month.
Whether it is my recent stressful job situation, and brush with financial meltdown or a subliminal desire to help us get to WDW in future years I don’t know, but I just could not justify the huge wads of cash leaving the bank every month for something I queue up in twice a day.
Why do they put the wrong names over the actors?
Another factor maybe that we have found that our new house may well have been featured into that film The Money Pit. We were perhaps a little naive to think that a house of this age, bought from someone in the latter years of their life would be anything but riddled with nasty surprises. The outlay on new bulbs alone would bring Greece to its knees, as every single light fitting in the house has at least one bulb that needs replacing.
Add to that all the lovely appliances we were left. Every one of which have decided now to give up the pretense of working that they fooled us with last week and give up the ghost. It would seem that we are going to have to systematically replace every single thing in the house. However, not until I have had my bloody holiday!
Last week alone we have had issue with the cooker, dishwasher, fridges and the windows. The latter being my favourite. The previous owner had misplaced the keys to all the windows, so we enjoyed a lovely sauna at night, unable to get any fresh air in. Luckily a locksmith was able to locate a key that would work, and for another chunk of money, we can breathe again.
On our return from the garage this afternoon, Rebecca has bathed Oli, and Louise is making us a chilli for tea. (Top tip from Louise, do not put your finger up your nose after chopping Chillis). Time to relax now and enjoy the weekend! Oh bugger, it’s Monday in a few hours.
So I’ve been droning about work woes now for about five or six weeks, and like one of those attention seeking folk on social networking sites, I’ve been doing the equivalent of posting one of those obtuse woe is me status updates hoping lots of folk will ask what is going on.
I apologise.
Last week was a biggie in lots of ways, and I can’t believe so much happened. However, it was the culmination of many, many weeks of hard slog, worry, tears and desperation.
About six weeks ago, through no fault of my own (I think) I found myself having to find myself a new job. I understand that I am no doubt one of many in this situation right now. The story behind this coming to be is complex and not routine, but not worth repeating here, but it was very scary, especially when you are just about to move house, and have an expensive holiday to go on!
It felt like I’d jumped off a tall building and I could see financial disaster rushing towards me like the ground rising to meet me. Scary stuff. So for the past few weeks I have been working very hard trying to rectify that situation. I have interviewed until I am sick of talking about myself. During that time, I cannot claim to have coped in the best way, and I have been a bit of a nob to live with. Louise deserves a medal, and the extended family have helped, worried and supported impressively.
Mood swings, depression, loss of confidence, anger, hopelessness and a bit more anger were just a few of the emotions that I swept through most days. At the risk of glossing over these weeks and not giving them the soul crushing respect they deserve here, I will cut to the chase and say that last Monday saw me receive an offer for a job with a great company that will also allow us to continue to pay the bills, move house and of course most importantly still go on holiday. It is all about priorities.
I knew last Sunday that an offer would be coming but I didn’t know the details of the package, and when that email arrived in all its acceptable glory, the relief felt was immense. All the pressures and worries of the last six weeks were released, and it is hard to describe how that felt.
So with that in the bag, we then had the small matter of moving house to contend with, as of course after months of delay and faff, it conspired that the moving date fell in the same week as the job thing getting resolved.
The stress of moving house and all the crap that always comes with that, when added to the job thing have made for what have been the most stressful few weeks of my life. I know I haven’t yet had to contend (thank God) with any real problems that affect a loved ones health or even worse, but indulge me, it’s been crap!
So as we entered the home strait of the house move, everything seemed to be sorted for last Friday, until that is, we got to last Wednesday evening. The details aren’t worth repeating but someone in the chain had a crap bank and/or solicitor, and they were very doubtful that they could process all the stuff in time for Friday. This nonsense carried on until 4.45pm on Thursday, when we finally got word from our solicitor (who was bloody marvellous throughout) that we were on for the following day after all.
To accommodate that moving date for the benefit of the whole chain, we had agreed to a day when Louise would be at University, doing something she could not miss, so I would be supervising alone. A worry to anyone sane!
One last time at *that* doorand with added Oli
Then, after what had been a full week of hard slog, packing, tipping and sorting our stuff the day of the move dawned and turned out to be the wettest day of the year. We got absolutely drenched as we began early in the morning, and stayed that way until late into the day at the new house.
We had help of course from all the parents, and we ended the day in the house, with beds to sleep in, and three very stressed and unhappy cats!! Just to add some spice to the day, our friends at Nat West decided to pull a plug out in a server room somewhere, and bring the financial system to a grinding halt. This meant that no monies could be moved on moving day, and this posed the risk of us having to leave the furniture in the van over the weekend and wait until Monday to move in.
Thankfully, our solicitor worked some actual magic and used something called a Licence (I have no idea) to enable the whole chain to move, and fingers crossed all the money stuff will happen tomorrow.
We have of course spent the weekend unpacking and sorting the new house, fixing broken stuff we didn’t know about and buying new stuff. Today, my Dad and I have also knocked down a wall in the loft, which will create a huge bedroom for Emily. Whilst we do that Emily is sleeping at my Mum and Dad’s house, but this isn’t too bad, as we have moved next door to them!
Just to cap off a quiet weekend, we went out yesterday and changed Louise’s car!! We’d been meaning to for a while, but an upcoming tax disc requirement, and the enormous running costs of her current car made us actually go out and get a more economical model, befitting her new status of student! She is getting a Peugeot 107. It is only two years old, so a lot younger than her current car, costs £20 per year to tax, and does about 60 mpg, compared to the 26mpg she is currently enjoying!
So it’s been a bit full on recently, and a period of time that I do not wish to repeat at any point in the future.
Just before all this kicked off I was just beginning to enjoy planning the holiday, having picked out some new eateries to try and deciding to take my Mum and Dad to the baseball etc. All of that has been very much on the back burner for obvious reasons, and it has only been since Monday that we knew we would be able to go on holiday after all.
I intend now to get back into full planning mode now that house and job are done. I have ESTAs to do, baseball tickets to buy, theme park tickets to research, and all the usual fun of the fair associated with the last few weeks before one of our adventures. Bring it on!
So for the downbeat nature of my recent bloggage I apologise. I have also been pretty absent from other social media outlets, but have made somewhat of a comeback this weekend when time allowed. To say I feel better is the biggest understatement since Jimmy Carr said he’s made an error of judgement.
The next few weeks sees me start my new job on Tuesday, so that will worry and occupy me a little more than just turning up for work as normal, but I am glad to have that problem believe me. Between that and the work associated with doing Emily’s bedroom and other new house stuff, I hereby dedicate all other available time to Disney planning, sarcastic tweeting and inane Facebookery. You have my word. Countdown wise we are at 55 days. Good grief I have much ground to make up!
There’s a reason that I don’t do a job that involves manual labour. Well, there may be a few reasons, but the main one is that I’d be dead by Wednesday of the first week.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve put a hell of a shift in this weekend moving stuff and boxes, and more stuff, and oh, so that’s where that went to. Two full days of non stop manual labour and my body is literally rebelling. At around lunch time today still with endless amounts to move, my system started to go into shutdown mode. I finally understood the phrase being out on your feet.
To stave off these feelings I have of course been shoving as many calories down my throat as I’ve been able to, starting this morning with a traditional Father’s Day breakfast.
I had to wait a little while, as I was up at 6.30. Oli checked to see if I was awake at that time by jabbing his huge wet nose into my forehead a dozen times, and by that time, yes, I was awake. I stumbled out of the bedroom into the hall (don’t forget, we are in the ex-garage downstairs) and saw what looked like a scene from Alien.
After a hard day’s work yesterday, my Mum & Dad treated us all to a massive Chinese takeaway at their house, mainly as we were too weak to even open the fridge. On the menu were spare ribs, and Oli partook in about two dozen too many, and this led to him revisiting them all over the floor. Just as I was finishing the mop up operation, Louise wandered in saying she’d do it and I should go to bed. Yep, that’s right, just as I was finishing!!
Once awake, the brain was whirring, and sleep was long since gone. I was up comparing car insurance by 7am! Some hours later, the girls made it downstairs with their eyes almost fully open, and wished me a Happy Father’s Day, and thrust a Cinderella gift bag at me. Inside were a card, and my present, a T-shirt, with the phrase Grouch Potato on it. I didn’t even think to object. After a few more minutes of banging and clattering, I was presented with a breakfast fit for a King. Waffles, squirty cream and strawberries. No full English, as I used to get when they were too young to do it themselves and Louise would do the honours. Left to their own devices, operating the microwave and the can of cream is the full extent of their culinary skills.
It was delicious though. With the festivities over, work once again began, with us shifting endless boxes from our current house to the new one. We don’t exchange until this coming Friday, but as I’ve mentioned, we’re buying from family so this means we’ve been allowed access early to dump all the crap from the shed into our new cellar. If this deal falls through now, I’m afraid it is staying right there and can be sold to the next buyer as a feature!
Not actually me.
Louise isn’t able to get out of Uni on Friday on our moving day, so she will not be around for most of the day. I wasn’t quick enough to think of a similar excuse so it looks like I’ll be in charge. Anything could happen.
So ten years, almost to the day, are drawing to an end at our current address. With the way this whole move has gone, should Louise suggest moving again anytime this millenia, she will encounter the full extent of my wrath. Then we’ll more than likely just move again!
In other news earlier in the week, I have been out and about a bit visiting all four corners of the British Isles…well Nottingham, Knutsford and Liverpool…geography wasn’t my strongest subject. These work related travels are showing signs of bearing some worthwhile fruits, and I hope to be in a much better place in that regard pretty soon. I do not wish to jinx this as I said last week, so until you hear some fat woman singing, I shall remain the elusive, charismatic, handsome enigma that I am.
Oh yes, I have also had a cold!! I suspect my body has been fooled into thinking this is November by the lovely weather we’ve been enduring. There is less moistness on the front row of a One Direction concert.
Programme not program!
This week has also brought some discussion with Emily on her plans after college. She isn’t too interested in University, despite her predicted grades being pretty pleasing, and so she has it seems been researching and plotting her course. She is going to apply for Disney’s Cultural Representative Programme, which is a 12 month placement working in WDW. This sounds great, and so we’ll be working on that with her until November when the application process opens. If anyone has done it, or know someone who has, Emily would love any advice or insight you might have on the application and interview process.
So, progress on a few fronts. I have an empty shed, some boxes already in the new house, a sniff of something like good news with my “issues” at work, and an ache in every muscle in my work addled body.
Now, I must return to the calorie consumption before I wither away into nothingness. If things pan out as I hope in the coming days, next week shall be a return to full blown WDW planning. You have been warned.
Time, they say, is a cruel mistress, a double-edged sword, a swirling maelstrom of contradictions, a thing that can feel the opposite at the same time. OK, I made the last couple up, but time is a strange thing. Not as an abstract concept, but more of a thing that can feel to pass so slowly, and yet in the blink of an eye all at the same time.
For example.
The last few weeks have edged along at a pace not seen since I last tried to run anywhere. With “issues” to resolve, the pace at which the world responds to my efforts to do so has been painful to say the least. I look into next week and see half a chance of finally sorting stuff out from a work perspective, and also with more than a mild feeling of trepidation that it will somehow be ripped from my grasp at the last moment, and I’ll have to wait yet more time to feel some sort of relief.
On the other hand, time on a grander scale seems to flash before my eyes as if it were nothing but a few seconds. Two things this week have made think this way.
Firstly, Rebecca has entered the workforce. It is, in the scheme of things, in a small way, but nevertheless, on Saturday she emerged from work beaming from ear to ear clutching the first £16 she had ever earned and feeling like a millionaire. She has got herself a Saturday job in a hairdressers. Said hairdressers is owned by my cousin, and she spent her first day at work shampooing, brewing up and cleaning the loos, thankfully not concurrently.
She seemed to enjoy herself, and was to be seen constantly looking at the sparkly money in her purse for the rest of the day. But never mind that, how did it come to pass that my little girl became old enough to go into the working world?
This thought had been reinforced by the second point I am making, which is that we are in the process of clearing out all of our cupboards and drawers of all the accumulated pap that we have shoved into drawers and cupboards since we moved in ten years ago. Much of what we are finding is photographic evidence that I used to have hair, Louise once had a really bad bubble perm and the kids grew up sometime in the last ten minutes to be nearly adults.
Packet after packet of photos bring back to life different stages of our lives, and along with that wistful smile that memories bring (or is it wind?), it has reminded me that I seem to have blinked and missed a decade or so.
I haven’t of course, I was just busy in that decade working hard, and planning for some big thing that never seems to arrive or happen. At the risk of getting too clawingly sentimental, smelling a rose or two along the way sounds like a plan, until life happens, and the roses whizz by the car window as you drop the girls off at another party or school event for which we are always late, and having a row as we have had to do something at the last-minute as the girls failed to mention that they needed those ingredients, that T-shirt or their PE kit.
Such is life I suppose. So now I share my house with two almost adult girls who still call me Dad, and when the need arises still rely on me to sort stuff out, but they certainly won’t be going on my shoulders anytime soon, and won’t be needing me to put that stupidly small dress onto their Polly Pocket for the sixth time this hour.
Time is relative. Immediate issues that need addressing, like my current ones, feel like you are wading through a swamp with lead boots on, and no matter how hard you try, time drags on. A bit like watching your countdown tick by till your next holiday.
The big picture stuff, which sees you changing nappies one day, and having yours changed the next is something akin to how you find yourself sat on the tarmac in Orlando waiting to head back to greyness and crap weather seemingly about seventeen minutes after landing there in the first place.
Ah well, my latter point proves that I shall no doubt look back on the dark times in the right now, as a small pot hole on the outside lane of life’s motorway when I look back on photos of us now, and remember what was going on. Then I’ll ask one of the girls to take me to toilet again, and soil myself just before we get there out of spite.
So as you may guess, I am still somewhat in limbo, as my maudlin ramblings above may suggest. Progress is slow, and very distracting, but as mentioned earlier, next week suggests that (to quote Lilly Allen) there may be a tunnel with some light at the end, or something like that. I hope so, as these last few weeks are not ones that I wish to repeat at any time in the future.
Forgive me again for the elusive nature of this here post but I strongly believe that jumping any guns here would jinx the small amount of progress made so far, so, you shall have to return to later bloggings to be bored to tears by the full story, and be very let down by its mundane nature…so it’ll be like every other week’s blog then!
In other news, Oli continues to become fluffy again after his hair cut when it was back in the spring (or was that summer). He is a cutie.
Oli nose best
We also went to the cinema today for the first time in ages. Men in Black III was the film of choice, and we enjoyed it. There were no great surprises, but I wasn’t expecting any, just a good entertaining family film, and that was what we got. The real surprise of the trip was that for some reason I did not get any Pick n Mix, and instead got a small (yes, I said a small!) popcorn instead.
I tell you, all this stress and bother is causing me some obvious issues. Fingers crossed that this time next week I can tell you of some resolution and a return to normality, not some crazy world where I order a small of anything. Madness!
We’re packing. Alas not for a holiday, but for the move.
With ten years having elapsed the amount of absolute junk we have accumulated is staggering. This is despite having to jettison a load when we did the garage conversion last year. Bubble wrap has been acquired, boxes purloined, and every room bears the scars of the battleground that is Williams v Junk.
Pop it!
It is amazing what you find in these circumstances though. The girls have today remembered that they own (amongst a million other long forgotten objects retrieved from under a bed or drawer) a Gameboy and a Nintendo DS, with a vast library of games. These now sit on eBay hoping for a bid or three.
This afternoon Louise and I ventured into the dark expanse of horror that is…..THE LOFT! It was strewed with bin bags full of summer clothes, photos (remember when you used to get them printed?), and a vast array of games consoles from across the past decade or two. Those along with two PCs, with monitors large enough to house a small family have been wrestled down from the roof space and taken along to the tip. I am such good terms with high vis vest man at the tip that I think I’m going to be best man at his wedding.
Before tipping said PCs, I gently (ahem) removed the hard drives from them just to make sure that no-one got their hands on the porn, I mean personal data held upon them. I then employed a team of six bodybuilders to help me carry each of the HUUUGGEE PC monitors bought in the 90’s, into the mondeo. The audible groan from the trusty Ford could be heard for miles.
Our spare room is now just a giant pile of bin bags and guff that we need to sort through. That is our long weekend spoken for then.
Still it could have been worse, I could have had to watch a thousand boats go down a river in the pissing rain and cold. I caught a few minutes of this debacle on the BBC today and it was, pardon my french, piss poor. The fact that five hours of telly was devoted to it is mind blowing. I salute those having to commentate on it. Next week they are to make paint drying sound exciting.
I can’t have been the only person to wish that they had employed one of the Disney guys to organise this boats floating past a queen thing. I mean, have they not seen Fantasmic? It certainly would have made the whole thing more bearable for her Maj and those unfortunate enough to have made the journey to witness it to. Imagine the profit from the sale of ponchos too!
Exciting much?That’s more like it
I hope you all enjoy your extra two days off. Personally, I could do without them. I know that sounds silly, but at some point in the near future I’ll tell you why. I am still working through “work issues”, and if you aren’t bored of them yet, I sure am. Hopefully, very soon I shall emerge from the darkness and into the proverbial light, and get back to blog’s full of Disney planning and ludicrous innuendo.
It’s been hot hasn’t it. Aside from my scorched pate and realisation that the shorts are a little snugger than I recalled when they were shoved into the wardrobe last September, I have been appreciative of the weather, and the fact that I am not an Old English Sheepdog. Oli has been feeling it this week, shaved or not, he’s a panting machine.
We have a fan just for him in the front room and he lies in front of it for hours on end. He appears to be eternally tired in the hot weather. We spent yesterday on a local park with the family, which included Baxter, Oli’s cousin. He ran, played and harassed Baxter for around three hours solid, so when he got home, in front of his fan, he slept like a big hairy dog, who was tired and glad to be somewhere cool.
Baxter in a sunhat of emotion
Today, Rebecca and I took Oli for a longish walk around the local golf course, and once again he is now sleeping it off, but this time on Rebecca’s knee being loved to death.
I am still in denial of certain real life events that I refuse to commit to bloggage at this stage. I do confess to not being fully at the races in terms of my bloggage, and my usual inane ramblings on Facebook and Twitter, but hopefully soon this will all be done and dusted. I will say it is work related, and that I hope to have things sorted out in the coming few weeks, but I am right royally pissed off with the situation, and in due course don’t worry I will piss and moan about it in great detail. I want to get it sorted first though so bear with me.
So despite that dark cloud spoiling the virtual weather, we have loved the sunshine and I stand by my oft stated belief that the world is a different, and better place for a touch of warmth and sunshine. I mean how much fun must it have been for Louise today to be able to do all the ironing out on the decking? That is what dreams are made of surely.
This evening, a strange occurrence happened, in that the entire family gathered on the sofas to watch a football match. Usually this is a solitary pursuit of mine, but with a team filled with the likes of Gerard (what accent have I got today) Butler, and Jason Isaacs Louise suddenly became all interested in football, and add to that two idols of the girls in Will Ferrell and Mike Myers and everyone had a reason to be watching.
On my head son!
Even Oli watched with us. As you see, the warm weather resulted in my shorts being dug from the back of the wardrobe. Steady yourself ladies.
As nice as it was to watch something as a family, Louise was on fire with her comments, which had us in stitches and with head in hands in equal measure.
Example 1
Voice over chap on the telly says that Roy Keane is the finest living Irishman. Louise responds (to the telly) by saying “What about Tom Jones?”
Example 2
Robbie Savage makes a comment that Aston Merrygold from JLS should change his name to Martin as he is so quick. Louise responds (to the telly) with “Who the hell is Martin Merrygold?”.
Example 3
The teams are lining up in the tunnel. Louise asks who the big chap is behind Johnny Wilkes in the England team. David Seaman says I. Oh, says Louise, and what country is he from?
There were many others, and I can confirm that not one drop of alcohol has passed her lips today! If this had been a competitive match, and even worse involving Liverpool, I fear I would now be filling in a big hole underneath the patio, and we don’t even have a patio!
You will have noticed a complete lack of me whittering on about Disney stuff and my endless planning. As I said earlier, crappy real life stuff is keeping that on the backest of back burners for now, but as soon as I have this sorted, believe me, I will be back on that at full throttle, and you’ll be sick to death of it I assure you.
For now, I am getting my blog done whilst in the same room as The Only Way is Essex, and feeling quite proud of the fact that I have not carried out some form of dirty protest across the telly screen. It surely is a crime against all that is vaguely intelligent.
So I hope you have all enjoyed your BBQs, beer gardens and burnt bits, and let us all play spot the pinkie tomorrow at work. By that I mean those of us that have over indulged in the sunshine and not Brian in accounts with his todger out again.
There are times when writing down what is going on in the real world is simply not an option. Having to live through it day to day, and then write it down of a weekend is just adding insult to considerable injury, so this week I am going to block out the real world from these ramblings and instead, do a random blog about something I do want to write about.
The premise upon which many of you come here each week is the ever loosening connection between this blog and Florida. For most weeks of the year, it is hardly mentioned, and then most years, around springtime, we raid a symbolic piggy bank and book another trip, and for those few months, these pages are crammed to the rafters with my self satisfied smugness as I trot out all the things that we are planning to do.
I doff my blogging cap to those proper Disney/Florida bloggers who stay true to their original theme, at all times, and can write article after article that actually helps people plan a trip or at worst enjoy one vicariously. So as I need to not write about last week, this blog will attempt to be a “proper Florida blog”.
Now, there are millions of Disney blogs, and with a casual glance at google I suspect there is not a piece of Disney property that has not been blogged to death. With this in mind I have chosen my subject carefully, and I hope that it can therefore actually be useful to some readers, as it may be something they have never thought of doing, or didn’t know where to start.
When you’ve been a few times, you start to look outside the gates of Disney for other attractions and activities, especially if your partner threatens to confiscate your crown jewels if she has to watch Spectromagic again on the next trip.
With this as motivation, I can get quite creative. Many folks who are multiple Florida visitors, first of all fall in love with the razzmatazz of Disney, but over time there comes a realisation that it isn’t only those forty odd square miles that hold you in their spell. The magic extends, first to off property eateries, and other theme parks, and eventually to an admission that your love affair is with the atmosphere and excitement of the US itself. Now I know that us visitors to Florida are not seeing the real America. Still, my generation were raised on a staple diet of US TV shows that have engrained comforting stereotypes into our minds, so that when we encounter them for real, we are once again that eight year old boy sat in front of The Streets of San Francisco in his pyjamas, marvelling at the sheer scale of the country and Karl Malden’s nose.
One way we have discovered to unearth a little of the real America, is to attend a baseball game. We have not yet attended a major league affair, preferring instead to get closer to the action with a minor league game.
With a non sport friendly wife, and two teenage girls who would rather eat their own earwax than watch sport on TV, I must admit, my main driver for selecting a minor league game over major was that the cost per ticket was $7 each rather than something like $50. Should they get bored after the first innings then I would have no issue in abandoning the event without having to sulk for the rest of the holiday.
However, I am very happy with that choice as the atmosphere, and family involvement is excellent, and we have had an absolute ball (pardon that pun) on every occasion.
On our first visit we chose the Daytona Cubs as our team. Admittedly this was driven by our location, as we were spending a couple of days by pool and sea at Daytona, but the choice was a good one.
If you want to see which team suits your location, then The Official Site of Minor League Baseball is the place to go. Here you can see all the teams, their schedules and book tickets.
We arrived early on game night, and were welcomed despite our accents and lack of baseball knowledge like one of the locals. We noticed right away that these games were a big community event. Everyone seemed to know each other, and we soaked up the pre-game build up eagerly, looking out onto the empty diamond.
The players began to warm up, the girls picked out which ones were “fit”, and I suddenly realised how ridiculously fast they threw that ball!
What became apparent very quickly was that the ball game itself was almost a side-show to the endless flow of entertainment and games laid on to keep everyone happy. You will know that US sports all take at least seventeen hours to complete, and all the breaks in play were used expertly with games of all sorts.
There was a burrito eating competition. If only I had known beforehand, I could have claimed glory for the UK!
At times the game itself broke out, and we all enjoyed that too, with my rudimentary run down of the rules being enough for the women folk to take an interest.
Every end of innings brought ever more creative games onto the field, with the most surreal being three Dads having to catapult sponges at the floodlights whilst watched by two girls from Hooters. The Premier League have much to learn.
With a couple of beers from a passing vendor, and every food stuff you can shake a stick at on sale, you want for nothing. The atmosphere is friendly and fun, and the result of the game pretty irrelevant from what we could see.
Towards the end of the evening, all the kids gather at one end of the field, and then when given the signal they “run the bases”. This looked like great fun but I fear I just missed the age cut off.
The evening went on for hours, with more and more fun as it went. With us needing to drive back to Orlando, and a touch of raining coming in we decided to leave as the game went into extra time tied at…well, I have no idea what the score was, but we were all smiling as we left.
I remember that drive home being one of the worst experience of my life, as torrential rain and pitch black roads made for a tense hour and a bit. I think I went the whole journey without blinking or talking.
So if you have a spare evening in your plans and want to sample just a little of the life outside of the sterilised walls of the theme parks then I would heartily endorse a night at the ball game. However, one word of warning. On our second visit, to a different team, the following year I bought myself a pretzel. If they ask if you want it with salt say no. There was an inch think layer of the stuff all over it, and I was thirsty for about three weeks afterwards.
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