The Southport Firework Competition was  fab!  Seriously, I could become a firework groupie and travel all all the place to see firework displays.

Our somewhat depleted group of 5 (loooooong story) trotted off to Southport nice and early to spend the afternoon there before the competition started.  At the appointed time we waved our tickets at the very burly and surly security chappie and made our way to the disabled area to find a good spot for Liv to be able to see what was going on.  The disabled area was chock full  of wheelchairs and there wasn’t a great deal of advantage to being in there but we managed to find a nice little spot right next to the portaloo (very handy – it was a bloody cold night, after all).

Eleanor was a bit grumpy and I was worried how she’d cope with the noise of the fireworks. She shocked us all by coping with it by going straight to sleep!  It was seriously noisy but even the finale didn’t wake her, all she did was jump a bit and flap her arms for a second before nuzzling back down into her blanket. That’s one tough baby!

There were three displays, we all agreed that the second display was slightly more slick than the first, the music and the fireworks were synchronised perfectly.   My view was that the start of the display was a bit meandering and it took a little while to get going but I was quickly out voted.  The third display was, oh dear, probably not the winner.  They suffered technical difficulties and were late starting and the choice of music was on a cowboy theme, most of which was lost on the kids who just thought it was odd.

The traffic jam getting out of Southport was monumental, it took us half an hour to travel half a mile.  I’m so glad the baby was asleep!

Today dawned bright and sunny again so I took E for a stroll round the park with the other members of Granny Squadron.   The trouble is that now I’ve been doing the Wednesday walk since early summer, I don’t stroll any more, I yomp.  We went awol halfway round and left the ‘granny circuit’ to walk up the hill to Pleasington Priory.  If we ever sell our house (any offers, anyone?) I’d like to live up there, not actually in the Priory, just near it will do.

While we were walking we saw my walk leader taking some middle aged women on a bike ride. True to form he took them straight up the nearest hill.  Heeheeheee, I overtook them twice as they had to keep stopping for breath.  Obviously my fitness levels have improved tremendously as the hill proved to be no trouble at all to me (wearing my smug face now).

Some seriously bad timing on my part meant that I was driving out of the park just as the local high school was kicking out. They clearly have a gap in their education as they don’t seem to understand how a pedestrian crossing works.  When you see a red man, don’t cross. There, that isn’t hard is it?  Apparently it is. Hordes of spotty teenagers swarmed lemmings like across the road paying no attention at all as cars hurtled towards to them, only slowing slightly as they knew that if they stopped they would be overwhelmed by lemmings –  er, I mean kids.

Later this afternoon Liv was showing me the new salsa step she learned on Saturday and I showed her the new hoppy, charlestony, kicky bit we learned in the quickstep.  She wanted to try it so I showed her how to kick between my feet while I jumped and then to do the opposite.  She assured me she understood, muttering, ‘kick then jump’ to herself. Off we went and Liv then  delivered the highest of high kicks, right into my nether regions. All I can say is thank God I’m not a man, I’d be talking in a falsetto voice by now!  Squeak.



  1. How did you get those beautiful photographs? You must have lightening reactions! Keep up the good work.

  2. Thanks, Janet. No, not lightning reactions just jammed up against a wall watching the action through the viewfinder waiting for the right moment to press the shutter. Dang it!! Just gave a secret away. I'll have to kill you now.

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