The Sarah scream and teddy bear violence

Mum and Dad hosted another BBQ on Saturday and this time invited the entirety of the family, including the McGarvas, Symingtons, Taylors and all. Not to be put off by the worse weather thus far this summer, Dad erected two large tents and a gazebo in the garden, fitting each of the tents out with carpets, comfy chairs and tables.
The BBQ was also the perfect opportunity to tell everyone of Baby Reid. Mum and Ka were especially looking forward to hearing the 'Sarah Scream' when my cousin heard the news. Cousin Sarah is renowned for her scream when either something really exciting, shocking or hilairious happens. In this case it could probably be described as a case of all of the above as, true to form, when Ka told Sarah in the conservatory, she let out a belter. The birds of Chapelton abandoned their branches in fright, the sheep and cows in the surrounding fields faltered in their grass munching, looking up with curiousity and Myra the hairdresser accidentally chopped someone's fringe off next door.
Needless to say, most people had a few beers through the afternoon and enjoyed the BBQ spread along with Grace's lasagne and Linda's traditional trifle. Whilst people's bellies digested the veritable onslaught, the rain kept falling but failed to put a dampener on things. In early evening most of the the blokes retreated into the living room for the World Cup runners up game whilst the kids presented various puppet shows emotionally blackmailing or forcibly bullying us into attending (I was probably one of the latter). These often descended into teddy bear violence with various Princess dolls squaring up to large teddy dogs all eventually transforming into a spinning cloud of felt and fur, whilst us viewers politely watched struggling to keep up with the show's plot. None of the performers were even puppets?! I bet Auntie Tricia preferred the puppet shows of old... When Baby Reid grows up a bit, he or she will be taught how to perform a proper puppet show.
Everyone has been great on hearing the Baby Reid news (apart from Myra's customer). Facebook has even proven itself to be almost useful in aiding with this. We did get one complaint from someone finding out on facebook, but to be fair to us, it was not actually on facebook, it was my blog at Reidnet, so there! -)
Anyway, thanks everyone for your well wishes. They're all greatly appreciated. Excitement and joy is now officially over - let the stress and panicking commence!

Calzean, caravans and sausages

We were sleeping in the tent again, over the weekend, as we stayed the night at Calzean castle, just outside Maybole on the South coast of Ayrshire. We went along and met up with Uncle Tom and Aunt Linda who were already set up in the Calzean camping and caravan park in their caravan. Sally and Jake, the two collies, were also there of course and were not slow in leading us through the forests to the castle, after we had successfully set up camp. Well, Sally did get a little slow on the way back, but she is approaching seventy.
It had been many years since visiting Calzean and my memories were more than a little hazy. We had a good walk round the grounds up to the magnificent house, turning as we reached the main building's front entrance and descending down in to the walled gardens. From there we headed out to the Swan Pond and then, after a short break on the opposite end, headed back, only making another very brief stop at a small sweet shop in the grounds so that Tom could buy some liquorice. As we approached our camp once more the rain started to drizzle down from the clouded sky above and we took shelter in the caravan where we demolished a bag of Red Sky crisps or posh crisps, as I called them. I then took a slurp of my tea and realised it was Earl Grey. Again, very posh. All this while our little tent sat shivering, patiently outside, waiting on it's occupants.
Caravaning is not proper camping anyway is it? A solid roof above your head, with cushions and sofas to lounge on? Drinking earl grey, dining at a proper dinner table? That ain't proper camping is it? You're supposed to get smelly and grubby camping, drinking cold tea from a flask and sitting precariously on a rubbish foldy stool which either buckles under your weight or sinks into the muddy puddles under your wellies. Why do we put ourselves through the misery of camping then? There must be something primal there. When the rain starts up caravans are a god send. Especially when the rain is no deterrent to a good barbeque.
Tom fired up the German barbeque in the caravan's awning - a large, metal, gas powered cooker that produced a mean steak and sausage. This was the second BBQ of the day as Tom had cooked up some rolls and sausage on our arrival at the campsite earlier. We then talked long into the evening to the sounds of U2's Rattle and Hum and Bowie's Live at the BBC 2003 concert over a good few bottles of Peroni and a few bottles of wine.
The third BBQ of the weekend then came when we arrived at Colin and Heather's place, in the Gorbals, on the Sunday evening after having got home from Ayrshire, showered and refreshed. Colin and Heather now stay in one of these heavily regenerated parts of the Gorbals were the flats look something like the exteriors of major scientific research laboratories with glass panels, large windows and elegant shapes. Upon Ka and myself finally finding the right door, Colin wasted no time in lighting the coals and before we knew it, we were eating more sausages again. I think we ate more sausages that weekend than we have done for the past two months. Afterwards we sat and done some catching up talking weddings, past school fashion statements and Morecambe and Wise. Colin, it turns out, being a bit of a fan and almost giving us a short rendition of their famous dance. Twice that night I mistook the bathroom for the boiler cupboard, the bathroom, which was of pretty good quality, apart from the Van Gogh rip off on the wall, being of excellent quality.

Magical birthdays and barbeques

Monday morning. A bright, sunny Monday morning though unfortunately for me it's spent in the office of course. The clearest blue sky there's been in months.
Happy Birthday to Aunt Linda who had (let's just say) a milestone birthday yesterday! We were round at my Mum and Dad's last night for a BBQ and Linda and Tom popped in after their dinner to pick up the dugs, Sally and Jake who we were looking after whilst they dined. Sally apparently didn't want to leave as when Tom took the dogs out to the car Sally nipped back into the house via the front door, toddled into the living room and plonked herself down in a corner again. Linda had to give her a wee pull in the right direction. With Dad's cooking at the BBQ who could blame her though? The hosts with the most as always. Great food served with a nice red. Dad had even made a jelly with strawberries which for some reason triggered a conversation on the size of people's boobs. Apparently using malt makes boobs bigger according to my ever wise mother and using olive oil on your eyelashes makes them longer..? I knew carrots supposedly helped with night vision but that's about as much as I know when it comes to the magical, mystical aspects of supermarket products.
Talking about magical, Ka and myself also seen WallE at the weekend. The latest Pixar animation about the last robot on Earth still trundling around, long after the departure of the human race, tidying the junk and debris that we'd left behind. A great wee family movie with some brilliant moments and fabulous animation.

BBQs and Granpa Reid the wasp killer

Barbeque city this weekend. 

Two BBQ's two nights in a row. Last night we were at Tommy and Tricia's place and tonight my Mum and Dad's. I have barely been in the kitchen all weekend...except just there, to pour myself a double vodka - just a night cap you must understand. Yes, last night Ka and myself were invited along to my Aunt Tricia's and Uncle Tommy's for a BBQ in the glorious... thunderstorm. Half six we had to be there but at approximately 16.45 a terrible rumble echoed through the air above our wee flat and then a flash of lightening shot down over Calderglen opposite, briefly illuminating the cloud filled humid skies. We were worried the BBQ would be off, but of course we had no need to be. This is Scotland for gawd's sake. A little bit of thunder and lightening is not going to put us scots off a decent BBQ! The weather has been kind of weird the past few days. We had the blistering sunshine during the week but then clouds piled in overhead on Friday for the weekend and although the humidity and warmth has remained there has been a definite lack of long lasting sunlight. The same happened tonight. Once we'd finished eating in the Reid back garden hail started falling from the skies! We took cover in the conservatory and the wasps in their old hideout in the back room's roof. 

The appearance of the retreating wasps kind of concerned my Dad as he thought he'd seen the back of those stripey little varmints when the Kenny boy and Granpa Reid destroyed their last nest with a bit of DIY insect extermination in the same place around a decade ago. Granpa had expertly co-ordinated the extermination. He was in no way a exterminating kind of guy but he knew how to handle a pest when he seen them. He told Kenny to stand on a stool so he could get right up close to the hive entrance (a small hole where the wall met the roof) and blast it with insect killer spray. After a few moments of spraying, stop, jump down from the stool and basically run away, fast. Kenny did all this precisely to the instructions given, especially the 'run away' bit and we all took cover in the conservatory as Chapelton's wasp factory emptied itself out into the Reid back garden, spinning, falling and crawling to their deaths. Kenny and Granpa surveyed the dying army, quite pleased with themselves. Granpa giving Kenny an approving nod. "Good Kenneth".

It was the 1st anniversary of Granpa Reid's passing this week. So wherever you are Granpa, don't worry, we'll get Kenny back up to Chapelton since he done such a great job the first time.