Fleetville Fireworks

Last night was fireworks at Ollie's school. The fireworks were good and the crowds big.

I had a conference with Charlie's teachers last night. He is doing well. The fact that he started school a year later than other kids ( as in the USA, kids start school a year later), doesn't seem to be holding him back. In a couple of months, with some extra tuition, he has managed to pretty much catch up in reading and writing. The interesting point here is that the American system of starting reading a year later hasn't put him at much of a disadvantage. I understand the Scandinavians start their children reading even later and they certianly aren't dumb! The other thing to say is "Well done Charlie".

This is a self-portrait (by Charlie) taken with the trusty Blackberry camera.

King's Lynn Road Trip

When both George and Ollie were younger I had taken them for off for a few days. This weekend it was the turn of Charlie. We stayed in the King's Lynn Best Western (Charlie is pretty brand loyal after all our American stays) and explored the Norfolk coast. We checked out Ely on the drive up, the cathedral is magnificent:

Went to Blakeney Quay to go on a seal watching trip (though the only trip of the day had already departed by the time we arrived), and have a walk around the charming seaside town:
Had a really good fish and chip lunch in Wells-next-the-sea:
and checked out Snettisham beach as it was becoming dark:

Unfortunately, Charlie was sick on the Saturday, but I hope he had a decent time.Perhaps we can go for another road trip when he better.

For all the photos, click here .

Halloween

Without much exaggeration I can say that Halloween in the UK is pathetic compared to the last five years in the States. I have such wonderful memories of big groups of parents and children walking around Oak Hill, or Spring or Begg for a couple of hours, welcoming anyone who wanted to join and all the children in some fancy dress. Everyone made an effort, always, and especially Jill, who never resorted to buying a costume for the boys. She may have borrowed a lion outfit once, but other than that she generally cobbled together stuff and made the most wonderful outfits; my favourite is still The Cat in the Hat. Anyway, in honor of five great US Halloweens, here are some snaps from 2003 to 2007:

Christian's Birthday

We finally celebrated my birthday last Sunday, the 26th Oct; a month late. We were going to celebrate it on Saturday 27th September at Dad's house, but other events that day got in the way, and it hadn't felt right to celebrate it until now. My Arsenal away strip complemented Jill's - see Jill's birthday home strip, here - and we had some lovely flapjack cake. The hardest part of the day was opening the card my Dad sent me.

Geek Orthodox

We were discussing religion at dinner tonight, working our way though the different types of faith. George asked us what Geek Orthodox was all about.

Evening Reading

Natalie and John's Wedding

Last Friday night was Natalie and Johnathon's wedding. The reception was held at Tewinbury Barn, where Anna and Rupert had their reception. We did some dancing, which was fun, especially as our dancing styles now have a significant retro quality to them.

Morgan and Ella visit St. Albans

It was great to see Morgan and Ella last Saturday night. We went to, reputedly, the oldest pub in England, Ye Old Fighting Cocks, which has a Wikipedia entry here and its own site, here . Morgan drank real beer,

and sat at the bar like a real local:


The traditional fayre was devoured happily,

And a good time was had by all:





The walk home was nice too:

Christian's Speech

It’s not unusual for people to say to me, especially when I have been a little too direct or terse, “that was just like Mick” or “you’re just like your father”, and even though I make a show of contrition, in fact, just between you and me, I am a little proud of the accusation. And today, I am happy to admit it.

I had a think about other ways I’m like my Dad. Here are some:

I‘m about 6 foot, and I’m reasonably slim. I like cheese and I like chocolate. I have bushy eyebrows, though mine don’t show like his (you need to see Uncle Alick for the real deal). I used to play tennis: pretty well in fact. I like music. I am more introvert than extrovert. I get preoccupied with things. I married a woman whose name begins with “J” (he did it twice).

There are other ways in which I am not like my Dad.

My hair is naturally blonde, his was jet black. I like novel. He liked familiar. I know the names of The Rolling Stones and The Beatles. He didn’t (and was proud of the fact). I am right footed, right handed and right brained. He was left footed, left handed and very, very, very …….very left brained.

And there are also some ways in which I am still trying to be like my Dad.

He ploughed his own furrow. He was skeptical of vested interests, “secret” organisations, and the ‘system’ in general. He was scathing of pomposity and pretension. He went out of his way to do things his way. I admired that and I still do.

He drew a good straight line. It was very clear where you stood with him; I probably crossed it a little too often. He was firm and overwhelmingly fair. He tried to do the right thing. He was loyal,
trustworthy and reliable. He was good at his job: I know. I worked at Shell Centre in the summer holidays as a messenger, and when people realized I was Mick Barnett’s son I was given
instant respect. What he did, he did very well. He would rather not participate than perform at a level that was below his standards.

And he was quietly brave. His wartime and postwar experiences in Paris and London were formative. Dealing with the death of his first wife, Jose, my mum, when he was in his early 40s with two young children whilst holding down a serious job was one of his achievements I am most grateful for. Coping with the death of his second wife, Joan, after having been diagnosed a few years earlier with Parkinson’s, was harder for him, though he bore this too with
considerable dignity and a determined resolve.

And when he realized that he couldn’t sustain a level of performance to his standards any longer he quietly and bravely decided to bow out, his way.

So the next time someone reminds me I am just like my Dad, I shall sit back and with a wide grin on my face, say “yep, you might just be right”