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43 HOLIDAY DAY 2

EWAN 2 GEORGE 1 BLOG ON HOLIDAY GEORGE UP EARLY EWAN WANTS TO ROCK ON THE BEACH

 

 

 

TUESDAY 15th AUGUST 2017

 

EWAN 2 YEARS OLD

GEORGE 1 YEAR OLD

 

OUR VERY OWN HOLIDAY BLOG

DAY 2

WHY CAN'T WE ROCK ON THE BEACH?

 

George:                  Hi George here, in Cornwall. Welcome to my world. Won’t you come on in?

 

Ewan (Blurry eyed):            Wow, George, you are up early.

 

George:                  Yes, I have to be. I have sole responsibility of waking the whole household at 4.30am each morning. They depend on it. They would happily stay in bed all day if I did not wake them.

 

Ewan:                    Who told you to wake everyone up at 4.30am?

 

George:                  No one. It is just gut instinct. By gut instinct I mean my tummy needs food.

 

Ewan:                    You’ve got a lot of people to wake up, here.

 

George:                  I know. I can’t count but I heard Grandad say there were 10 of us.

 

Ewan:                    You can’t rely on Grandad’s counting, he’s worse at it than we are. But I can just about count to 10 and I think 10 is correct.

 

George:                  I’m a bit scared you know. What will the people who own this house say when they get home and find us living here?

 

Ewan:                    I think we are OK, because Mamma sorted it.

 

George:                  Really?

 

Ewan:                    Yes. You know how everyone listens to Mamma and has to do what she says.

 

George:                  I know even like Mum and she’s a school teacher. And even Grandad.

 

Ewan:                    Especially Grandad, he has to listen and do what everyone says even us.

 

George:                  Yes. Ha, ha, ha. Poor Grandad.

 

Ewan:                    Mamma would say, “My family and I need to stay in your house for a couple of weeks holiday, so bugger off and leave us alone”. And they would reply, “Ok Mamma.”

 

George:                  Wow. I want to be like Mamma when I grow up.

 

Ewan:                    Yeh, but without the hair obsession.

 

George:                  But that’s all part of being a Mamma.

 

Ewan:                    Suppose.

 

George:                  But isn’t it great, all of us being together in one house?

 

 

 

Ewan:                    Sure is, but I do not like having to sleep in Mum and Dad’s bedroom, again.

 

George:                  I know I thought I’d left that behind years ago, well about one year ago, actually. I don’t like them watching my every move.

 

Ewan:                    Tell me about it. But at least we’ve got Grandad 24/7.

 

George:                  I agree, the most exciting thing about the holiday house is having Grandad around 24/7.

 

Ewan:                    And Mamma…

 

George:                  Yes, Mamma around 24/7 I forgot that, it is the best thing…and having you and Cousin Rory around 24/7

.

Ewan:                    Yes that’s got to be the best thing about holidays. And there are so many interesting things left around in this house that are not put out of our reach, in the way they are at home.

 

George:                  Have you seen the number of electric power points and cables at a real low level. So easy for me to saunter up and play with…

 

Ewan:                    …and all the ornaments in easy reach. But my very favourite is the rocking horse.

 

George:                  I saw you had become very attached to that, but you are supposed to ride it, not walk around dragging it behind you like you do.

 

Ewan:                    If I ride on it I am a bit unsteady and get scared that I’m going to fall off.

 

George:                  I know, but Grandad, holds you on, he did me.

 

Ewan:                    He’s not very good at it, He’s not agile enough and we end up falling off.

 

George:                  Every time I rode on it he let me fall off.

 

Ewan:                    They wouldn’t let me take the rocking horse to bed you know.

 

George:                  I heard them say it was too big.

 

Ewan:                    Yes and they wouldn’t let me take it to the beach, either. Even after I cried and cried and cried.

 

George:                  But why did you want to take it to the beach?

 

Ewan:                    You’ve been to that beach. What is missing?

 

George:                  Erm, erm…

 

Ewan:                    Come on George, quick…it’s so obvious.

 

George:                  I know, I know…cruise liners.

 

Ewan:                    Cruise liners? I sometimes wonder which planet you are from George.

 

                                Donkeys to ride on. There are no donkeys on the beach. Nothing to ride on and they call it the seaside. Has no one read Lucy and Tom Go To The Seaside?

 

George:                  Yes, of course.

 

Ewan:                    So I wanted to take Rocky to ride on. You have to have an animal to ride on the beach. I also needed him in my cot to ride through my dreams, too.

 

George:                  How do you know his name is Rocky?

 

Ewan:                    Because my middle name is Philip. That means “lover of horses”.

 

George:                  My middle name is Patrick. Mum and Dad only use it if they are half angry with me. They say “George Patrick!” Just like that.

 

The meaning of the name Patrick is: Patrician. Romans’ society was divided into plebeians: (commoners) and patricians: (aristocrats) and Saint Patrick is patron saint of Ireland. I was named after my Mum’s cousin Patrick, an amazing character who she is so proud of.

 

Ewan:                    George! Do you want to know how I know his name is Rocky or not?

George:                  Sorry, Ewan, yes please, I do.

 

Ewan:                 Because I am a lover of horses he talks to me all the time and confides in me.

 

George:                  I ain’t heard him talk to you or anyone else.

 

Ewan:                    No because you are a Patrician and not a lover of horses. He tells me so many horse stories.

 

George:                  Anyway what did you think of the beach?

 

Ewan:                    I thought…oh I’ll tell you later. I’m off. I think Mum just found the rusk I replaced her book mark with.

 

George:                  Yes, time for a sharp exit for me too. Dad’s found out I can reach the sky box and I tampered with it and retuned it.

 

Ewan:                    No time for trivial Bye Byes, then.

 

 

 

© 2017 www.jeanniejeanniejeannie.co.uk Phil Robinson

 

 

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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