Life's a beach

I am really blessed that my parents have lived in wonderful places for the past few years. They recently moved from the Algarve and are now back in Dorset. All my childhood summers were spent here and now my son is getting to come here too.

Our first afternoon was spent on Swanage beach where the girls pictured tried chatting my little boy up - which he was embarrassed and thrilled by in equal measure.




We also went for a lovely walk at Durlston Country Park.





Today we went to the famous Lulworth Cove and sat in the blazing sun whilst he played in the sea. At one point we got to watch a live action version of 'Seaside Rescue' as a bunch of mad young things got caught out in a rowing boat and dragged back in by some very annoyed police.




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What doctor?

This weekend we had the sort of treat that only a very special sort of person can truly appreciate. Now, how you emphasise that word 'special' very much depends on whether you know who Steven Moffat is and how you spend the early evening on Saturday nights and teatime on Christmas day. In this house Steven Moffat is revered and we never ever miss an episode of 'Doctor Who'.

Today my son and I went to see The Crash of the Elysium at Salford Quays in Manchester.

We had to sign in and sit in the really impressive new BBC buildings at Media City. Now, second only to Doctor Who in our house is the wonderful Horrible Histories so my son was also really excited to see this



and to get to disembowel a mummy and stick lungs etc in a canopic jar whilst being timed. No really.

We also got to meet a truly iconic villain



But the main event was The Crash of the Elysium



Which was described by its writer as follows:





So, what happened? I'm not going to tell you. It's a TOTAL secret and I don't want to ruin the immersive experience because I think every one of the 11 million people who watch it each week ought to go. All I'm going to say is you get to run and there is a fez. Fezzes are cool.


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Something to Bragg about

Yesterday I continued my personal quest to stop my son ever getting into chart R&B (unless it's the Stones or BB King) by taking him to the Garforth Festival Playground Party which is a real highlight of my year. It's a true community festival with a superb atmosphere and a lineup that becomes more impressive by the year.






There were lots of families sitting in the sun enjoying performances from both established artists and a parade of children from local schools:







The highlight of the day was the appearance of Hugh Masakela and Billy Bragg. As left wing Mummies we were very excited by Billy's appearance and tried to get him to come and say hi via Twitter:






Sadly - and wholly surprisingly - it didn't work but he gave a storming performance including a new song called 'Never buy the Sun' which reflected the events of this last week.




And I'm really glad I took my son because Billy speaks in an honest and humorous way about matters I think my son needs to think about as he grows up. Topics he discussed was the 'Love Music Hate Racism' campaign and about young people coming out to politically fight the BNP in Barking during the last election and succeeding in taking all 12 council seats off them. And Billy talked about how activism needs to be a grassroots movement and that we as teachers change lives every day. I think that happens as a parent too: the best parenting gives a social and moral compass to a child. I hope that my son's childhood is helping him develop an awareness of the importance of social responsibility whilst still having a huge amount of fun and joy. This is extra important for us as a lone parent family as this society is effectively saying that they give tax breaks to married people because lone parents are second class citizens. Well, I'm not and neither is my son.

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Eton Trifles

Last night was a late one after Wimbledon and my exhausted son was straight off to sleep whilst I had the cheeky Pimms that I'd never got round to during the day.

This morning we got to have an English breakfast and then explore the grounds of the hotel to which our tour company had upgraded us - and very lovely it was too.



Then we were back on to the coach to Windsor. The last time I was there was about 1985 and I've seen some frightening pictures of what I wore that day on Facebook. I have to say that the security screening was very slow indeed and, by the time we had queued once at entry, there was no way I was queuing for the state apartments and so we just looked around the grounds.



Then we walked down to the river and wondered up to Eton and an opportunity for me to tut at the concept of public schools.




Now we are on the coach home listening to the Nadal v Djokovic match. How I wish we were watching it on Henman hill...

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There are few things that will get me out of my bed at 2.30am. In fact, despite my travel addiction I don't think I've got up that early in 20 years even for a flight. But today was exceptional as I took my son to the final Saturday of Wimbledon.

The coach journey aside (squawking women from Sheffield hollering 'morning' at 5am and the fact that the coach company have exclusive rights to Cliff Richard concerts - dear heaven, let that NOT be my demographic) it was an amazing day.

The first view of the site was from the top of the orchard - or Henman Hill to you and me.





And there was a brass band and blazing sun to set the scene on the perfect British summer's day.

We had seats on number one court and saw a Briton, Liam Broady, narrowly snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. All he needed to do was win 2 games in the second set, but, alas - no. Our seats had an amazing view.


Bet it comes as no surprise that this was our lunch:



Then finally my amazing Dad got us returned tickets and we watched the final set of the Ladies' Doubles on Centre Court - sat directly across from the Royal box.




Now, I'm in bed after having been awake for practically 24 hours and am going to have a well-earned kip.

Goodnight all x

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