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HALF TERM HOLIDAY?

George 9 months old He finds out about Half Term Holiday

 

 

18th February 2017     

 

GEORGE'S BLOG

 

AGED 9 MONTHS

 

HALF TERM HOLIDAY?

 

Welcome to my world.

It was the middle of half term week when it all kicked off. I’m only 9 months old so how am I supposed to know what half term is all about.

Ok, ok, yes I do come from a long line of people who work in education, but Grandad says that’s the best reason for not listening to them. Grandad is the only person on my mum’s side of the family who is not or was not involved in education.

I was sitting quietly in my car seat psyching myself up for what lay ahead. Shops or nursery. Something bizarre and uninspiring, when Mum turns round and takes my photo (Health & Safety point: Dad was driving by the way) and before I can say George Reed (bear in mind I am not able to say anything much more than “Mum” or “Dad” at this age) she sent the photo off and its gone viral in the family with Mamma and Auntie Ju-ju saying George needs to tell his face he’s going on holiday.

Sarcy people, they need to take a look at their own faces sometime.

An hour later the penny drops and I realised we were still on the road and actually going to the seaside on holiday. I understood you could only do that in August when Mum was on maternity leave. I didn’t realise she was able to get additional bits of maternity leave.

You can see the photograph at the head of my blog. I'm the one on the left. Just shows, you might think I am like Grandad and smiley all the time, but I was caught unaware in a candid moment, when I foolishly let my guard down. Mamma says Grandad has those sort of moments too, often, very often, too often.

So Me, Mum, Dad, Sister Freya, Lucas and his Mum and Dad all went to Scarborough seaside for a holiday. Holidays are real good fun. I know because Grandad keeps telling me.

As a baby I’m not sure how good my memory is supposed to be. I did know but I forgot. My memory and grandad’s is about in the same place. As he gets older his memory is disintegrating and getting smaller. Mine was hardly there and then started growing and increasing. At the moment I think me and Grandad remember equal, although I’m better at remembering where the TV remote control is and Grandad’s phone.

I’m not sure whether I’m supposed to be able to remember having been on holiday to the seaside last August, ( I was 3 months old, so I doubt it) but I definitely could when I ate sand again. It’s funny stuff to eat. It’s not very filling and makes your mouth feel strange. The swimming pool was great, but everyone called it the sea. I think sea must be a Yorkshire word for swimming pool. But I couldn’t understand why Dad didn’t throw me in like he does when he takes me to swimming lessons on a Monday.

The sun was shining but it always does apparently at the seaside, it’s the rules and that’s why you go.

I’m not sure what sandcastles and sand pies are all about. It says in the rule book of life you have to make them on holiday or if you see sand anywhere. But I may be out of touch here, but I get more pleasure from knocking them down. I eat the sand pies because you always have to eat your pies up. Dad and both my Grandad’s taught me that.  But they are not my favourite. The best bit is crawling in the sand, throwing it all over me and getting covered and chasing seagulls. Do you think once I can walk the next stage will be flying to catch seagulls. Can’t wait.

Sister Freya and Lucas love the seaside. They’ve been lots. But where is Grandad? Me and him could have so much fun together here. Mamma or Mum and Dad seem to have banned him from coming out with us. I‘ve not seen him for I think four days. I’ll know better when I can count properly.

We went to a place called Robin Hood’s Bay. Me and Ewan talk about Robin Hood in our joint blog. Well this is his bay. What’s a “bay”? We saw a blue plaque on a pub wall that was the official end of the Coast to Coast Walk. I think the plaque was blue but I don’t know my colours yet. They keep coming up at Grandad’s Boot Camp along with walking exercises and talking encouragement. But to be honest until I can talk there’s not a lot of point knowing my colours. Time’s too short and precious to waste when there is so much to explore in the world like cables, phones and remotes.

Anyway back to the Blue Plaque. Mum said Grandad had walked the Coast to Coast. Apparently that was from one seaside over the other side of the country to this one. 203 miles and he took 2 weeks. Like 2 weeks doesn’t mean a thing to me. So Mum says that’s 14 sleeps. That’s better I understand now. But I baby sit Grandad lots and he is always falling asleep. He easily has 14 sleeps in one day, especially if he is walking, so he must have done it in one day.

But why did he have to walk anyway? Why didn’t Mamma take him in her car? I think he’d been messing about or making lots of noise. He presses buttons on the radio, you know. I learn a lot from him. He sings and makes Mamma angry. He must have been singing “The windows on the car go up and down” to the tune of “Wheels on the bus” and then pressed the buttons for the windows to go up and down. I love it it is so funny.

Mamma would have got angry and said, “Philip” (When she’s an Angry Bird she doesn’t call him Grandad she uses her angry name for him “Philip”). “If you keep on doing that you’ll have to get out of the car and walk. And he didn’t stop. I know he just wouldn’t. Mamma always means what she says. So Grandad had to walk.

I don’t know whether Mum and Dad thought they’d take me to Robin Hood’s Bay to give me inspiration to walk, I don’t need any more than I have. But we went to the Robin Hood’s Bay Fish and Chip Shop and that inspired me massively to get eating solids big time and get on to fish and chips quickly. WOW! All I got was wimpy, mushy peas. Now there’s a goal to set. Eat a full portion of adult cod and chips by next Sunday. And with salt and vinegar. And to go!

From one famous Grandad setting to another.  Staithes in North Yorkshire. We sometimes watch “Old Jack’s Boat” on Cbeebbies. It is a programme about another old guy telling stories, like Grandad. This one is more interesting and he even has a dog and a boat and you won’t believe it even a shed (Its inside a boat really but we let Grandad think it is a shed - Grandad grumbles that it is only a studio set, what does that mean?) and lots of seaside so it’s sunny all the time. It is filmed in Staithes. We went to find him:

“Old Jack’s Boat is a show on CBeebies and features Children's TV legend Bernard Cribbins as ‘Old Jack’,  a retired fisherman who lives in a little village on the North Yorkshire Coast.  Helped along by a cast of colourful characters, ‘Old Jack’ tells tall stories from inside his old fishing boat. The series is a mix of live action and animation which allows Old Jack to wander along the seabed, visit tropical islands and fly high in the air on balloons always accompanied by his faithful dog, Salty. Aims of the programme: At the heart of Old Jack’s Boat, amongst the gathered bric-a-brac of many, many years at sea sits Old Jack himself in his ancient chair. He’s always ready to tell you a story… 25 Episodes recorded”

 

We couldn’t find Old Jack. He must have been out for the day, or may be gone on holiday. If you live at the seaside where do you go on holiday? There are so many questions in life I need to find answers to.

 

Anyway I fell asleep when I woke up I was at Mamma and Grandad’s house. Had I dreamt the holiday? Of course not my mouth is still full of sand. Come on Grandad lets do some mischief.

 

When I was a lad at school around 13 years old, our Maths teacher used to call me Wol. At the end of the year as we were moving up a class I plucked up courage to ask why he called me Wol. He told meit was thename of the deslexic owl in Winnie the Pooh. With my Harry Potter glasses he said I looked like the Wise Old Owl in the Winnie the Pooh stories.

 

Being the vain person I am I took it as a compliment

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