Skip to main content

England Part 1: The Whites


There are just too many great photos from our trip to England!
I thought I'd give you the Toby ones first, so here we go: Toby with Graham's family.


With Grandma. He got lots of cuddles with Grandma.

With Grandad. I just realised Toby doesn't look overly impressed in either of these photos, but he really did get on with his grandparents very well!

I like this chair! (He also liked watching TV, so much so that we worried we might have to wean him off Coronation Street at the end of the visit.)


With Auntie Colette. He was fascinated by her - if Colette was in the room Toby couldn't take his eyes off her!


I'm sure I can reach those chocolate fingers if I just stretch a li-i-i-ttle further!


Group shot: Toby, me, Colette, Maddy, Anthony and Karl. In a pub. Was it me or did we spend a lot of time in a pub?


What, me?


Helping Mum play Uno.


No, I didn't see any writing saying, "Keep away from children". And look, it makes such a nice noise!



Gorgeous one of Graham and Toby on St Anne's beach. We had perfect weather for our day out to the seaside.



We also had a day out in Skipton, which is a nice town but absolutely freezing! Still, we strolled around the town and along the canal, peeked at the castle, and had lunch in a little bakery-cafe selling very traditional goodies like meat pies and currant slice.


Say aaaahhh!




New toys. The jeans were new too; at the start of the trip we were rolling them up and by the end we didn't need to!


Mmmm, that looks good, Grandma!
Three generations of Whites on St Annes beach.


Enjoying a well-deserved nap in his Moses basket.
Labels:

Comments

Anonymous said…
Looking forward to future instalments. Dad
29 March 2011 at 15:12
Susan Ewing said…
Martha--what a cutie! So glad he got to meet his other grandparents and, of course, they loved him!

xx sue
29 March 2011 at 16:49
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Mr White Watson of Bakewell

Once upon a time, back in 1795 or so, lived a man who was always asking questions.  The kind of questions like, "Why is glass transparent?" or "Why do fruit trees grow better in that place than in this place?" or "What does the earth look like underneath the surface?"  This last question was one that he was particularly interested in, and he went so far as to work out what the rock layers looked like where he lived, and draw little pictures of them.  Now he was a marble sculptor by trade (as well as fossil hunter, mineral seller, and a few other things) so he thought it would be even better to make his little pictures in stone.  That way he could represent the layers using the actual rocks they were composed of.  Over the course of his lifetime he made almost 100 of these tablets, as he called them. Then he died.  And no one else was quite as interested in all those rocks and minerals as he was.  His collection was sold off, bit by bit, and the table...
Post a Comment
Read more

Erewash Valley Trail: Strelley and Broxtowe

I'd had another four-week gap between walks (who invented half terms and inset days?), and was itching to get out on my explorations. The weather forecast optimistically predicted sunny spells. Unfortunately the weather hadn't got the memo; it was overcast for my entire walk, and then the sky cleared as I was driving home. Oh well. I arrived at the Nottingham Canal to find bulldozers buzzing up and down the towpath. The car park I'd intended to park in was closed for renovation, but there was a layby a little further up the road towards Cossall, so that was fine. The first part of the road had nice wide verges - easy walking - but after the canal bridge it was called Dead Lane, which felt descriptive. It was tightly hemmed in by hedges and I had to flatten myself against the hawthorn when cars passed. Cossall Road Dead Lane The bridleway to Strelley was mostly paved road, but blessedly traffic-free apart from a couple of bikes and a bin lorry performing manoeuvres. Tim Brin...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Imitation of Christ: Spiritual Formation Book 2

"This is my hope, my only consolation, to flee unto thee in every tribulation, to trust in thee, to call upon thee from my heart, and to wait patiently for thy consolation." The second of my  four books for spiritual formation  is The Imitation of Christ  by Thomas à Kempis.  The introduction to my copy starts off by saying that 21st century readers may wonder why they are bothering, which hardly seems like a recommendation!  I have to admit I finished it with a certain sense of relief, but there were some hidden gems along the way.  It's rather like reading the book of Proverbs.  There's no story or explanation of a theme, but there are astute observations, honest prayers, the occasional flash of humour, and quite a lot of repetition. Thomas à Kempis was a priest in an Augustinian monastery in the 1400s.  Presumably his life conditions favoured the silence and solitude that he advocates for in  The Imitation of Christ , but also gave him opp...
Post a Comment
Read more