Skip to main content

Happy First Birthday, Theo!

Yes, a year has rushed by, and our curled-up little bud of a baby has unfurled into a walking, talking  cruising, babbling, genuine one-year-old!


The birthday itself was low-key, which I think is only fair when the chief player has no idea what's going on.  Graham's parents came to visit, and we are seeing mine soon, so the birthday boy gets to show off his new skills to his grandparents.  And eat cake. 


Grandad brought a cake, which we ate for lunch, and I made a banana cake.  It had to be banana, really, for this one.  I'm not sure we yet have photographic evidence of Theo trying to stuff half a banana in his mouth all at once, but that will have to be remedied.  He is very good at it.

And since it was his birthday, I feel entitled to sing Theo's praises for a few minutes.

We love his infectious giggle and cheeky smile.

We love the tuft of hair that sticks up between his double crown.


We love the way he can entertain himself with toys for half an hour at a time. (Oh yes!)

We love his careful attention and single-minded determination.

Determination here applied to taking all the coal off the electric fire and - if the state of his face is anything to go by - trying to eat it.  Of course, when I got the camera out he started moving too fast to get a non-blurry photo.)
 
We love his bright blue eyes - and still are amazed that he got them!

We love his funny noises and clapping hands.


We just love him - from top to toe!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Where am I going now? The Portway

I should probably explain why I am pottering around Nottingham and its western suburbs, rather than roaming the Derbyshire countryside. It's not just the abundance of paved paths, although that certainly helps - I recently went on a country walk across a cow field and found myself tiptoeing gingerly across boggy mud cratered with six-inch deep hoof holes. Then I was confronted by a sign which said: Private Property, Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted. I congratulated myself on being on a public right of way, then, a few steps on, consulted the map and realised I wasn't. The path was across a completely different field. nice scenery, though I digress. Apart from the absence of cows and angry landowners, the reason I am walking around Nottingham is that it's the start of the Portway. There is a blog called The Old Roads of Derbyshire , written by a man named Stephen Bailey, who has also published a book of the same name. I can't remember now whether I came across the book fir...

Portway: Bramcote Hills to Stanton-by-Dale

I parked in the free car park at Bramcote Hills Park and set off, naturally enough, in the direction of where I'd last been. Up some steps through the woods, along the edge with marvellous views northwards, and down past a school to pick up Moor Lane again. At that point I realised I was supposed to be walking this route in the opposite direction. Oops. Well, it didn't make much difference. It just meant that the Hemlock Stone would come at the end rather than the start. Also, I was doing a figure of eight, so I could switch paths in the middle. That sorted, I pressed on along the disused Nottingham Canal. This had varying amounts of water in it. There were good views back up to the double hump of the Bramcote Hills. Nottingham Canal Also Nottingham Canal Just before I got to Trowell garden centre, I crossed a bridge and walked across a green space to a partly built housing estate. The Boundary Brook had been aggressively re-wiggled. I'm sure it will look better in a year...

The Portway: Lenton to the Bramcote Hills

It was cold. My fingers were cold, and my phone was cold too. The OS map was totally failing to find my location, and the more I prodded it the less feeling I had in my fingers, so I gave up, shoved both my phone and my chilly hands into my pockets, and set off. After all, I knew where I was. This was Wollaton Park. And the path was very obvious. Just follow the avenue of trees... ...past the deer... ...and out through the fancy gates. Crossing a busy road brought me into a neat little housing estate with unusual round street signs. This was built when Wollaton Park was sold to Nottingham City Council in 1925. The old gatehouse, Lenton Lodge, is now estranged from the rest of the park, and stands by itself next to Derby Road. The bridge used to go over the Nottingham Canal, which has now been turned back into the River Leen. The unfortunate river got shoved out of the way whenever someone came up with a new building project. This is not its original course. My hands were warming up sli...