Goodbye

Tall and dark. Quite literally larger than life. In so many ways.
Deep, throaty, booming laugh. Delightfully and unmistakably you.


Quick of wit, and sharp as a tack.
The king of jokes, the maker of smiles at the drop of a hat.


The broadest of shoulders, yet the most delicate of hands.
Fingers long, almost elegant.
The keeper of  hidden talents.

The organ player who never blew his own trumpet.
The model maker who quietly honed his craft.
Though loud as a fog horn, never arrogant or brash.

A childhood peppered with memories of you, though visits were few and far between.
Sun dappled, full of toys and wonder. Days out never to be forgotten.


A big man, who made a big impression.


I'd give anything to hear your laugh again.

Confession Time....

I have a deep, dark secret. It's a secret I have been harbouring for some time now.

I fear that in revealing this secret, I maybe come an outcast. Shunned. Ridiculed and thrown to the lions.

You see I'm different. There is one aspect of motherhood which just doesn't appeal to me in the slightest. That I have no interest in whatsoever.

Prams. Buggies. Strollers.

Yup. I have said it. I am a mum, and I am most certainly NOT a pram-o-holic.

I do not lust after a Phil & Ted what-ever-you-call-it or the latest Bugaboo thingummy-bob. In fact in a quiz of pram brands I'd come bottom of the class.

I just don't get it. A pram to me is a piece of equipment. My interest in it goes as far as this -can it transport a small person from A to B in relative comfort, dryness and without freezing to death. I care not for innovative design. I don't really care if it's multi directional, 360 degree swivel seating. I don't really mind if it is in this seasons most fashionable colours. I don't care if it has shiny wheels, a pedometer and a cup holder for my latte (or frappe).


The fact that I feel this way gets to me. What's wrong with me. Shouldn't I be lusting after the latest perambulatory device like everyone else? Cooing over pram press releases on twitter?

I know quite a few mummies who have gone through at least 2-3 prams/buggies for ONE child. I've asked if it was because the previous pram wasn't suitable or practical enough. Most of the time the answer is no. They were merely seduced by the enigmatic curves and devilishly decadent design of the latest model on the market.  Maybe I'm more head than heart about it though. Maybe that is my problem. If I even toy with the idea of a new pram, all I can think of is that I'd have to learn how to work the damn thing! Learn how it folds, learn how to recline the seat, how to put on the rain cover. All those horribly mundane and eye wateringly annoying aspects of new pram ownership.

I wish someone could explain to me, the joy of prams. I really do. I don't want anyone to think I am having a pop at all the pram junkies out there. I just don't understand.  This is the first time I have admitted it though. When other pram savvy parents tell me all about their new kit I nod along enthusiastically trying to understand their immense joy. I fake it. I just don't have the heart to be a killjoy and say what I'm really thinking. Which is this...

"BUT IT'S ONLY A PRAM."

Am I the only one who feels this way? I don't think I have ever met another mum who will admit to it. Are you out there? Someone? Anyone?

That's my dirty little secret.  So where does that leave me? I feel like I'm standing awkwardly, alone in the corner of the playground. The weird one who doesn't like prams. I really hope this isn't like primary school, were I was shunned for not liking New Kids On The Block....