"Spiderman killed all the dinosaurs because they were too stompy"
"Spiderman has a manager, he tells him what to wear"

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The liberties of a people never were, nor ever will be, secure when the transactions of their rulers may be concealed from them. -Patrick Henry, revolutionary (1736-1799)

That's one of the reasons that I read A.Word.A.Day (wordsmith)

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I was blundering around google, looking for software that might let me synthesize pseudo-bold and italic versions of a Roman font when I found this - http://www.alphabetsynthesis.com/.

Nice art project that evolves 'imaginary' alphabets.

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Went to Wakehurst again yesterday. The irises were blooming. They were lovely. Pete came along in Em's sling. Owen came along begging to be carried by Daddy (Daddy resisted). 

Saw this

Giant Himalayan Lily

as well. There's no sense of scale here but the plant was nine foot tall I would guess. It's a giant himalayan lily.

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Well, at 3:58pm on Friday, Peter Nathaniel Gibson was born. Emily and Peter are doing just fine, spending a few days relaxing at the birthing centre. It's been an interesting few days:

Saturday 5th
Baby due. Nothing happens.

Friday 11th, 9:00am ish
Em thinks that she's having a contraction. Call my mum to warn her.

10:45am
Definitely having contractions, call birthing centre. They say come in when the contractions are five mins apart.

11:00am
Call mum, she's on her way... Find someone for owen to play with until my mum gets here.

12:15pm
Owen off to Lewis' house.

12:45pm
Getting ready to go. Head to Crowborough. Five mins between contractions.

1:15pm
In Crowborough. Three mins between contractions.

1:45pm
Emily into birthing pool, contractions scary looking from the outside.

3:58pm
Baby! Peter's born. He's lovely. He's 8lb, 7oz (one more ounce than big brother)

IMG_0384

5:00pm
Call mum. Owen announces to all of Pizza Express that he's a big brother now.
Hmmm. No placenta. Problems. Midwives give syntocinon (sp?). Nothing happens.

5:15pm
Ambulance called.

5:30pm
Emily taken to Pembury Hospital. Small problem for Nic and Peter as they are left behind and don't know where Pembury is...

5:50pm
Peter gets to go in a car at less than two hours old. We try to find the hospital.

6:15pm
We find the hospital. We find the delivery suite, we find Emily

6:45pm
The obstetrician takes Em to theatre and we wait in a very boring and very empty room.

7:45pm
Em comes back. Procedure successful. No trauma. No cutting. All good.

8:30pm
Emily and Peter admitted to maternity ward overnight. She gets a private room. This is good. The ward is loud and impersonal. It *is* very clean.

IMG_0397

11:00pm ish
I head home and go to bed.

Saturday, 10:00am
I head to the hospital and wait until 2ish with Emily and Peter until the hospital decides that Em doesn't need a transfusion and that they will let her go back to the birthing centre.

2pm
We drive back to Crowborough. Emily is admitted to the birthing centre.

IMG_0405

3pm
Owen, mum and my sister arrive. Peter gets to meet his big brother when he finally decides to wake up. Big brother is exceedingly impressed. Hard to tell what Peter thinks of him.

IMG_0404

6:30pm
I go home. Em and Peter try to get some sleep...

IMG_0399

Right. Two boys. Let's see where that goes then.

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The announcement that the government intends to encourage teenagers to swear an oath of fealty to the crown has me spitting blood (again). I hope, by the time that Owen (and the little brother to be) are old enough to have the choice, my republican beliefs have rubbed off and they give this farcical idea the response it deserves.

I've never understood the American oath of fealty thing (my ex-wife told me about having to do the whole flag thing at high school). It makes a little more sense in a monarchy but monarchy is hideous archaism anyway.

People don't owe anything to the state in terms of loyalty. We create the state; it *is* us. If anything the state owes us loyalty. The state serves us, we should not serve the state. We have allowed the modern state to turn into something quite frightening and I don't know if there is any way back out.

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Paraphrasing a book I just finished...

Branding is something done to animals and slaves.

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I worked from home a couple of times this week so I picked up Owen from school. Coming back on Thursday, we had a long conversation about brothers. We started talking about the baby and about him being a brother and ...

Owen: I don't want be brother
Me: Why not?
Owen: Brothers always adults. I don't want be adult. I like be small.
Me: But brothers aren't always adults.
Owen: Yes, they are.
Me: But Owen, Jacob is Ellie's brother and he's not an adult.
Owen: Oh! I see! I do want be brother.

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Last weekend we went to my parents' for  a couple of days. We should have been going with Em's grandmother but she had to delay her flight because she was sick. Anyway, we went to a Remembrance Day service with my parents as my dad was laying a wreath. On the Saturday, Em had to work so I had a day with the boy. We grabbed a couple of cousins and went walking at Danebury Hill Fort. I've been walking there on and off for almost 35 years (now that's  scary).

Just before we left the kids found a deep pile of leaves and a small bank in the car park. The result:

MOV00149

MOV00150

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So, do we have the only child in the world who would

a) refuse to eat his "teddy bear" pizza
b) ask for more salad

We've raised a foodie. Mostly, he turns his nose up at food targetted at kids but he likes Stilton.
What have we done? He's worked out that the nicest food comes from the farmer's market and Waitrose.

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