A fictious "girlfriend"

When Dad was going to see or talk to a female he vaguely knew or often didn't know at all but just quite fancied he would refer to her as "my girlfriend". I say this whenever we go to the chippy in Boroughbridge where one of the regular servers (though not there last night, sadly) is this tarty, over-made up bird.

Pic of the day: Here's one from a walk in the Cheviot Hills of Northumberland c 1980. It's the finest headwear we've seen Mum sporting since that the legendary lampshade in the b/w shot from the sixties.

Dearest brothers....

I know I've asked this before, but one day, to show how much you love me, please could someone print off all the Dadism blog and pics and make into a kind of memory book for me (with the published comments too of course!)...

xx

Cheering at borders

Don't know if this is actually a Dad-ism, a general Kirkwood-ism or, indeed, peculiar to my family ... but we always clap and cheer when crossing an national border within the UK as we did last week going to and returning from Scotland.

Pic of the day: We know the grannie ... but who was the baby? The pic is dated on the back from June 1985. Answers on a postcard, please [or within the comments box would do].

Intelligent question and reversing a car

1. "Can I ask an intelligent question?" Dad would ask before posing a query which would result in an answer he actually knew and everyone would disagree with.

2. When anyone was reversing out of the drive Dad would stand in the middle of the road pretending to halt the [non-existant] traffic with one hand and beckoning the driver with the other - as I do with the mother-in-law when she leaves after Sunday supper. Dad must have been a frustrated traffic cop, I think.

Pic of the day: The happy twins, hands firmly clasped.

 

Two more tennis ones

"Deuce", the scorer calls. "Orange, please!" Dad replies, guffawing at his very unfunny and oft cracked joke. And sometimes he'd play the ball to a corner, we'd return it directly to him then he'd jink it to another corner with the call: "Run!" Just been doing that to Bertie.

Pic of the day: A relatively recently vintage, this one, from 2005. Fine volume, seldom off my bedside table.

Do that again...

When ever you did an incredibly lucky shot like deflecting the ball off the a tree and in to the top corner of the goal, Dad would always say "Do that again and I'll give you a 1000* pounds".  We would then spend the next ten minutes futilely trying to recreate the shot. Found myself saying this to Aidan this morning after he shot his plasma shooter ball (which was thankfully small) right in to my crown jewels from about ten feet.

* - Can't remember if it was 1000, 100 or 1,000,000, but it was a big number...

Holiday reading

Dad always used to buy the local paper when we were on holiday - to see the auction prices, essentially. I do likewise - as I did only last week on Anglesey when I availed myself a copy of The Holyhead & Anglesey Mail. A good read with lots of stories about places I'd been to or through as were The Shetland Times and The Orcadian on previous cycle tours.

Before I know it I'll be tying piles of library books up with string (and getting someone to put their finger on the knot).

Pic of the day: What an absolute classic - from the days kids wanted to be bus conductors and Indians rather than celebrities. Beck has never looked cuter. (Click once on pic for full size).