Because I have a brother, I'll always have a fiend (not a typo)

It was my brother's birthday at the weekend - he's turned 30 - so Mum and Dad, with their usual generosity, put on a slap-up feast. For once, there's not much of a story here. Just family sitting around a table, enjoying each other's company and only occasionally descending into rows about Brexit. Rather than forcing jokes about a lovely afternoon, I'll let the pictures do the talking.

It's like looking at me, but with optimism about the future

Food? But look at all the lawn toys! Golf instead! Play now!

Oh...wait. Hummus? What was I saying?

My brother and his lovely fiancee

 Celeste insisting on washing up the cutlery. From a different angle, you could see a quarter moon. Think about it Tom.

Tom's game attempt to light his birthday candles in a stiff cross-breeze

For some strange reason, I didn't think putting a picture of a bare-bummed toddler in the paddling pool on the internet was wise. This will have to suffice.

A lovely afternoon was had by all. I drank enough beer to catastrophically wreck my diet and Lyn kindly drove the three of us home afterwards. Celeste went to bed nicely and I fell gently asleep too, stretched out on the living room floor (I wasn't drunk, I was just really tired - oh hell's bells, who'll believe that?)

6.30am, Saturday morning, Chapman household

'Twas the morning of Saturday, when all through the house
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The toddler had been placed in the bed with care,
in hopes that the sandman soon would be there.

The wife was nestled all snug in our bed,
while visions of beautiful babes danced in her head.
And me with my coffee and the morning so bright,
had just woken up early for a quick fiction write.

When from the baby monitor there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the monitor I flew like a flash,
and switched on the screen to see another crash.



There would be more, but I'm needed now to play cooking or doctors or something.

Word count achieved: 114 (nearly all copied from the Wikipedia)

I am awesome.

Sudbury Open Gardens: Adventure at Three Feet

So it's the town's annual open gardens event, all procedures going to the local charity "St. Nicholas' Hospice". I thought it might be nice to see more of our adopted hometown and get a bit inspired for our own green handkerchief.  My original plan was to get there as soon as the gardens opened at 10.30am, so we could get all thirteen done before Celeste's nap time. Unfortunately, this happened to my wall:

Daddies who can, fix it.

Daddies who can't, phone their own Daddies.

A flying visit from the DIY God (known to mortals as Chapman the Elder) fixed it, but at what cost to time? By the time we got into town, it was already lunchtime. We needed a pitstop at Huffers Cafe (which does a decent burger, but is also one of the most child-friendly eateries in town.

Attention Social Services: That is milk in her cup, not Pepsi and definitely not gin.

Yes, it looks lovely, but eat now! We're behind schedule for Culture!

Celeste enjoyed playing with the food, but not eating it: everything was too interesting. We took it all with us in a box, a decision which was later to haunt me. Our first stop was the gardens of Gainsborough's house (Thomas Gainsborough being one of Sudbury's most illustrious sons). Celeste immediately escaped, trying to find the fairies she was sure lived there.

None down here... 

Not that way! That's the bit of the museum you've got to pay extra for!

It was about now that Celeste started wanting her chips again so, on this Cultural and also Civic Enrichment Experience, I was having to feed her greasy food from polystyrene containers. Attention Social Services: this is not a regular occurrence.

Garden Two was the Red House, a nursing home with a garden so lovely that I can't wait for my inevitable old age to spend some time there.

The first person to guess how many times my green handkerchief fits into this garden wins free bile.

 Aw...my ladies!

 Protection for old people against orcs? I honestly have no idea!

I've seen too many horror films to be comfortable leaning out over dark water near old mansions

Third up was a lovely house called "Cygnets" on Church Street, so called, I guess, because you can literally see cygnets from your back lawn.

No cygnets... 

Canoeists, ducks, but still no cygnets... 

Don't be silly Daddy! There're no such thing as cygnets!

Finally, as little legs were starting to tire, we made one final stop at Mill House to see the cows on Sudbury's beautiful water meadows.

 *Sigh* Green with envy. Geddit?

Celeste's suggested caption ten seconds later: "Cow done a poo in the river!"

Believe it or not, there were still nine more gardens in Sudbury to do, but we had to cut it short because...well...

Night night sweetheart; sweet dreams. Don't tell Social Services about the polystyrene and chips when you wake up.

Cooking with Daddy

Please follow all steps closely.

Step 1) Decide to make French Onion soup from scratch while your spouse is elsewhere and you are in sole charge of the toddler, otherwise known as Trouble.

Glitter? Glue? Bucket? See you in 10 minutes

Step Two) Chop a biblical amount of onions (Note to self: check for onion quantities in Bible)

After chopping all these, I never want to be near an onion again

Step Three) Gently cook the onions for ten minutes.

That the onion barely fits in the pan will definitely not be a problem later

Step Four) Realise that your toddler's gone very quiet and go to investigate.

Glitter stuck successfully to the bucket, but also to carpet, nostrils, pyjamas, etc

Step Five) Smell burning onions, return and pick out the burnt bits.

'Burnt' is valid as a flavour, isn't it?

Step Six) Try to make a ridiculous amount of stock, realise that the situation is rapidly spinning out of control and breathe a sigh of relief when your wife arranges to run distraction.

Shh...she's forgotten all about you...

Step Seven) Realise that there's no way that all of the stock you made is going to fit in the frying pan.

Uh oh...

Step Eight) Keep pouring in the stock anyway until it overflows the pan onto the hob.

Cleaning the hob is a problem for future Mike!

Step Nine) Serve with bread and cheese and look on in horror as your toddler just eats the bread and cheese.

Was it worth it? No. No, it was not.

Early birthday\Father's Day treats

To celebrate the last few hours of Father's Day and my birthday tomorrow, Lyn had a few more surprises left in the bag:

 Birthday steak

Birthday cake

I love this woman!

PS: The cake recipe's below - Pimm's Cake! Lyn got it from the Tesco's magazine, June 2016. Would definitely recommend.

Father's Day Photo Shoot

Thank you very much to my darling wife for suggesting an impromptu photo shoot in a photobooth. The pictures came out great!

I love being a dad.

The Big Cheese

Today was a day I've been looking forward to all year: the Sudbury Food Festival. Of course, it rained. Lots.

10am - 50% of the attending crowd. Not a joke. The other 3 were me, Lyn and Celeste.

The drizzle was near constant but even when it slackened off, everything was damp and the sky slate grey.

Festival! Festival! Festival!

But why go? I hear you ask through the internet wires. For gold, my friend, for gold.

Now held in an undisclosed location because I'm a grown-up now and I don't have to share.

My supply of spiced fluids has been running increasingly short and I've been getting more and more excited about a resupply (especially the Garlic and Habanero one and the Naga one). Now I don't have to stress about my dinners all tasting different - now they'll all just taste hot.

Celeste and Lyn had a great time too. Celly ate most of the cheese samples from the stall so, in the end, we felt like we had to buy a truckle of cheese from the man. I still think Celeste ate a greater mass of cheese samples than we bought.

He doesn't know what's about to hit him...

Now Celeste's body is 60% water and 40% cheddar

We then came to the cow thing. Words actually fail me describing this thing, but it turns up every year. Children are invited to sit on a stool and milk it. I don't know why.

Mascot? Simulator? Graven idol?

There is no sign and no description is given. I don't know what it is for, what it is supposed to teach or advertise.

Celeste looks as uncertain as me...

Bless her, she had a try. She even got a certificate: her first ever. Who "Transition Sudbury" are and who empowered them to give out milking certificates is unknown at the time of going to press.

And Celeste doesn't understand it either.

Ultimate, it was all about the ice-cream. And the sprinkles.

So. Much. Sugar.

It was delicious and through a combination of onion bhajees, ice-cream, seafood, wild boar burgers, chocolate brownies and lemon muffins, I think that we can say that today was not a good diet day. Thankfully, wild boar burgers are exotic enough to not be in the Slimming World book, so I'll score them as zero. Adding together everything else gives a Syns-value as long as my phone number.

Celeste is so full of good food that she's been asleep for nearly four hours. 

Alone

Celeste is asleep: she's has a busy day dancing around and playing with blue sand at her nursery. Lyn is asleep: she's had a hectic day at work and the small matter of a third-trimester pregnancy is tiring her out.

I am alone, for the first time in days.

The house is quiet.

I have complete freedom to do whatever I want.

What have I chosen to do?

I've spent thirty minutes making a picture reflect my concerns over the dark, autocratic themes in the gentle and beloved BBC children's' TV programme "In the Night Garden" and the fear of living under the Night Garden Emergency Act.

Dissent will not be tolerated

What is wrong with me? Is there literally nothing better I could've done with the time ? I could've folded up the washing, I guess. Oh my god - I'm so rock and roll. Past Mike would be horrified.

Oh good...9.30pm. Time for bed.

Baby Chapman 2: The New Batch

If you don't want to see what a baby looks like, turn away now!

Wow. Just wow. Today, we all had a big family outing to Bury St Edmunds and had a 4D scan done of Baby Chapman II. This isn't what frequenters of theme park cinemas might think it is (ie. surround sound, getting blasted in the face with jets of air and amniotic fluid) nor is it a 5D scan as sci-fi readers might imagine (pictures of your baby from alternate realities). It is an amazing 3D moving image of the incoming hurricane.

Chilling with her arms up by her ears and, apparently, a thick head of hair already!

A smiling...pirate?

This baby is already so wriggly that the attendant was having to chase her round and round with the probe. I suspect that explains the smirk on photo #2.


Celeste had her attention torn between the free crayons and the video feed of her new sister, but behaved very well. At the end, she even lectured the attendants on how important it was to clear up after yourself. Now all I need to do is train her how to hold a chimney brush and I'm set.


The nice lady also confirmed that the baby is indeed a girl, which is an enormous relief as I can no longer find the receipts for all the pink baby clothes I've been buying.


There is video, which I'd like to put up, but it's 30 minutes long and much of it is pretty fuzzy. I'll gather up the good bits and post them up on a different day.