Love birds

Term encompassing two people in a relationship almost regardless of how serious they are. Thought of this when referring to Polly and Adri who stayed at Naworth over the weekend.

Serving drinks

As I mimicked during the JKKs' recent visit to Naworth, Dad would preface the serving of drinks by telling a guest: "I'm worried about your thirst". Sounds so much more attentive than just saying "what would you like to drink?". A bit OTT, though.

Holding your ears

When playing football in the garden and an errant shot was sailing towards the kitchen window, Dad would put his hand over his ears for some reason as though not hearing the smashing of the window would somehow make it better. Come to think of it, he did it when it was sailing over the fence.  I was having a kick around with Aidan yesterday and found myself instinctively making the move as the ball sailed up in to a tree.

Football shout

Watching Reading v Blackpool among siblings and cousins last month it was perhaps no surprise that John and I were reminded of Dad's shout at Elm Park: "Keep it on the island, Reading!" As we said, he clearly didn't have much faith in the team's skills if just preventing the ball from going out of play was something worth encouraging.

The pic comes from Reading v Arsenal in 1972.

"You're not on the rostrum now"

 Meaning there's no need to talk so loudly or self-importantly.

Love note

Seldom a note actually about love but any piece of paper left around the house prompting action from a family member or sometimes a note intended for someone to whom you would never wish to show love to start with. I leave them all the time.

Brush in your bed

Leaving a brush in someone else's bed was always a great wheeze for Dad - and often for children getting their own back. In response to finding a brush as he slid into bed Dad would call out: "That's very childish" even though he was the one who instigated the trick.

Pic of the day: "Faulkner's sale" is written on the reverse along with a reference to the print being produced in Jan 1955.

Dessert disappointment

Dad would request a dessert after a huge main course. Mum would plonk a very small portion in front of him. He'd pause for a moment, pull a comically disappointed face and say: "That's not enough for a mouse".

"... and a happy New Year"

At the end of grotto shows particularly if families aren't getting the message and departing I sing just: "And a happy New Year" without the preceding lines from We Wish you a Merry Christmas. Yet another Dad festive legacy and a handy form of conclusion.

Boxing

Pretending to box by having one hand in a fist and the other cupped just below the chin. I think he picked this up from his days boxing at Reading School, where he was taught to defend his chin - maybe the cupped hand was how it felt in the boxing glove. I found myself adopting this position while messing around with Aidan the other day and he's adopted it now - us both punching each others cupped hands, so we don't actually clock each other on the chin. This was raised back in 2011 as part of a longer list, but worth a trotting out again I think.

Solid ground

Polly and I entered the grotto to the strains of Johnny Mathis' 1976 Christmas chart-topper (I'm back in hospital radio DJ mode here), When a Child is Born. Dad used to sing the line "I'm on solid ground" every time Mum presented a dessert.

The song also always reminds me of cycling back from Bearwood on dark country lanes (now Lower Earley), my sheepskin gloves building up a layer of frost. I sang the song to stop myself getting too spooked.

The hurry up

 Walking upstairs to bed this evening, with Aidan just in front and dawdling, I used Dad’s technique of growling and whacking the stairs behind him as he then scampers up. It used to delight and terrify me in equal measure. 

Surprised this one hadn’t come up previously (I searched) but good to keep this ticking over and having at least one a year.

'k you p!

Hard to know how to spell this Dadism as it's more of a sound than a word. It's basically an abbreviation of "thank you", curiously appended with a p. Used to thank someone for a small favour.

Pic of the day: John recently posted this on Kirkys on Tour, of course, but here it is again for posterity.

Kirkwood Drive

Here's a interesting corner of the Kirkwood kingdom: Kirkwood Drive in Sydney. It's named after William Love Kirkwood, brother of our grandfather and sister of Aunt Peggy. He was a decorated military doctor who treated casualties from Gallipoli in the First World War. He emigrated from Ayrshire to Australia in 1906 to practice with his maternal uncles (both Kerrs). His grandson has just sent me William's biography.

Eager to be examined

Bertie comes home from school and recounts (very briefly) the day's pre-GCSE exams. "Try me on a question!", I implore, knowing full well that I'm unlikely to know the answer especially if the subject is science. Dad used to do that.

Pic of the day: A tantalisingly grainy scene from Pembrokeshire in 1975. I think we can all safely say that the actual colour of Mum's bikini, the windbreak and surfboard [great flash!] match. I think Dad's jumper was red too.

Clapping at the end of TV programmes

Dad would often do this as I'm reminded every time that Bertie and I now applaud (loudly, of course) when the credits roll. Odd buggers, all of us.

Picture of the day: The happy twins at a family reunion in the early 1990s, I think:

After a busy day ...

Dad would say he'd had a “hell of a day”and then recount that all he’d eaten was a single sandwich or something just as paltry.

Pic of the day: Here's a rarity: three generations (well, almost) of matriarchs.

Fighting talk and Gold Top

If you offered to take on Dad at a sport (eg tennis) he would often reply "That's fighting talk, that is!" much as I did when Beck challenged me to a game of pickleball on Thursday. Not a specific Dadism, I appreciate, but a phrase he favoured.

Gold Top was, of course, Jersey milk. Dad would often check if the milk was Gold Top especially if Mum served it with a dessert when cream had run out.

Pic of the day: This one's in honour of the recent Issitt Disney wedding. Which niece was the bride, Beck?

Improve your mind

An expression used by Dad to urge offspring to do something educational rather than trivial, eg read a book. (I found myself saying it when spotting Bertie on his new smartphone.)

Pic of the day: Who can name the venue of this family meal? In the first pic Beck and Martin look enthralled by the occasion ...

Coughing

I found myself doing a Dad cough this evening: Starting off almost as a low growl before gradually being promoted to a full on bark, often multiple times. Note that Paul has already claimed the admonishment to ones self, to "shut up" after such a cough.  On a related note, also found myself stating how I'd like to "give the chef a wee peck" last night, but predictably this was one of the low hanging fruit that went in the early days, but worth revisiting.