Chocks Away!

Here I am with Mummy at Gatwick before my maiden flight. As you can see, we're both trying to summon-up a little Dutch courage for the trip.



Stand by front-gunner, were going over.

AMK

Jacksons Five. Kerrs Three.

Here I am with three of the Jackson Five. After a slow meander over the river we met up with the Jacksons for a Bank Holiday sup. We had a few games of charades and a couple of drinks - the perfect end to a lovely festive break.


From left to right we have Benjamin, William, Daddy, Me and Amber. And in the front we have my empty bottle and Daddy's empty pint glass (like father like son).

They're all moving house soon. I'm not sure how far Thames Ditton is, but I hope it's not too far - I'd like to hang out with the Jackson Five more often. But wherever it is, I'll be there (I'll find a way).

AMK

Merry Christmas! (Part III)

Yes, today marked my festive hattrick: day 3 of my Christmas extravaganza. After a lovely sunny morning at Nanna and Grandad's, we headed home and made it in super quick time. No sooner had I given my elephants a slap in the chops we were home (a mere 2 hour doze in the meantime helped the journey fly by).

This was the third and final Christmas day - an afternoon for me, M&D to kick back and relax en famille. I bought Mummy some make-up and Daddy some gloves. (Because I still struggle to verbalise my thoughts and actions, however, they took credit for my generosity. Pah!)

Despite the strange customs and excessive build-up, I like Christmas. Not sure I'll always have three every year, but all-in-all my first Christmas has been a bloomin' great one. Amen.

AMK

Merry Christmas! (Part II)

I woke up tired and a tad irritable this morning after a restless night. M&D had the bare-faced cheek to sleep in my room here at Nanna and Grandad's, you see, so I barely slept a wink. Mummy makes noises like jungle animals and Daddy makes endless trumpet sounds, so I lay awake and played with elephant for much of the night.

Still, it is Christmas. And now I know what all the fuss is about - what a jolly old day! After the snow, wind and rain of recent days, the sun came out: sun (yes, sun!) over Cardiff Bay just goes to show that Christmas is indeed a special day. Not only that, but there were lots of nice things all hidden in nice paper - gifts for all of us to open.

I needed a little bit of help but I had great fun ripping open my pressies and chewing the paper. Most of my presents were either clothes, which I don't need today, or toys that I'm not allowed to play with until I have full control over my hands. So the paper was the most fun.

Pretty soon we were all drowning in the stuff as the pressies flowed. Shirts, socks and bloomin' great hunks of bright plastic lay all about the place. Then the food started: Nanna did a great job of keeping the others placated and welded to the arm chairs by weighing them down with endless supplies of tip top grub.

I abstained from the gluttony (this yellow medecine has put me right off my milk) and kicked back with a book on the balcony. The Snowman didn't make it to Wales this year, but to be honest I'm glad.

AMK

Bye Bye Borders

At this time of supposed cheer and goodwill I'd just like to spare a thought for my friends at Borders. Many happy hours have been spent in that lovely shop: supping milk, chatting with my friends and thumbing-through a few books. Mummy even bought one once.

And I guess that was always the problem - for us regulars it was like a library, a public service. So small wonder it went out of business, but such a shame that it happened on Christmas Eve for all those nice people that worked there.

I guess Mummy and me will have to while away our afternoons elsewhere now. I'm hoping it might be next door in the Young's pub.

AMK

Little Joe gets RAMT'd

Further evidence that Christmas is indeed a strange time. For decades, so it seems, the great British public has cheered home the x-factor winner to a festive Number 1 in the charts.

Not so in 2009, pop pickers. Thanks to Jon Morter and his Facebook campaign, the nation was kept guessing until the 11th hour; and today it was Tom Morello and chums who stood triumphant over the dull, sullen corpse of poor little Joe's debut single with the cheerfully entitled "Killing in the Name".

Sony BMG are winners all round, given they represent both 'artists', but it's one in the eye for Cowell and his cronies nevertheless - if nothing else it goes to show Christmas isn't a God-given right (unless your name is Jesus).

AMK

Merry Christmas! (Part I)

Well, the folks were up at silly o'clock this morning - not to probe and rattle their presents but to check out the damage to their cars. Despite parking on a private gated drive, you can still wake up to a ding in your rear-end and a letter of apology pinned to your front door. What is the world coming to?

After the cursing and moaning, however, they remembered that today was the day of goodwill to all men and so we had a little sit down and a glass of some fizzy juice.

Soon the world was alright again and we settled down to some Christmas fun and frolics. This included the unwrapping of some top-drawer presents and the slow cooking of a giant rib of beef. If only I was on solids, mmmmmm.

By mid-afternoon I'd developed a certain sympathy for my friend Billy, however. As you can see from the picture below, it seems that it's tradition to dress small boys in red polyester regalia at this time of year. I can only be thankful that GG and Gramps only had a hat, and that I was spared the full ensemble.


The other thing to note from this picture is that my hands truly are gargantuan (look at GG's right shoulder).

By evening I'd also had my first taste of a computer game. When Daddy was a young lad he got to play Pong, which sounds appropriately pre-pubescent. My first taste of computer games, however, was whistling down a ski jumpand leaping 114 metres. My cheeks were virtually (ahem) chapped by the time I'd ski-ploughed to a halt. And as a result I now really need a Wii (yes, it was THAT exciting).

Roll on next Christmas (yes, Grandpa, that's a hint!)

AMK

My First Christmas. (Of Three.)

Here we are in happy old Wimbers once again, visiting GG and Grandpa. This time is special though as we're having an early Christmas - my chance to find out what all the fuss is about.

There's snow on the ground, a tree in the hall (much nicer than our dead twig at home), sweets in pots never more than an arm's length away and a GIANT new tele to watch things on. Ho ho ho indeed!

I got so excited this afternoon that I tried to put my entire fist in my mouth. Nearly succeeded too if it wasn't for the fact my hands are so ruddy big.

Roll on tomorrow (our faux Christmas Day), when I'll get to see if the fat red-suited burglar makes it (which will be nothing short of a miracle given GG and Grandpa have got a gas fire).

AMK

Nine Girls. One of Me. I'd Call that Pimms O'Clock.

I've now got lots of friends, all of whom I've known pretty much my whole life. Most of them are girls, which I think is pretty cool, although Daddy seems to think this will be a problem when I'm about 8 and again when I'm about 16 (albeit for different reasons both times). But I hope these problems won't be too bad and that we stay life-long chums.

Today I met up with Ellie, Toes and Sophie at Auntie Zoe and Uncle Morph's house for a pre-Christmas catch-up. Presents were exchanged and I got some plastic cups that stack: stacking cups. But the most exciting thing we all had to play with was Cinnamon the puppy. (Just like friends, a dog is for life not just for Christmas.)



It was Tabitha Toes' second Christmas so she told me all about it. I think she was making a lot of it up though - some likely tale about a burglar who breaks-in via the chimney and leaves more than he takes.

This time next week I guess we'll all know what really happens. And this time next year we'll all be able to tell any new babies about Santa the bungling thief.

AMK

Talent Shines Through. Personality Loses Out.

So that's it for another year: the X-factor winner has been crowned for 2009. The young lad from the North East (I forget his name) won a less than memorable title after The Afghan Hound, Butlins Boy and 'The Mouth' failed to ignite the public interest. My money had been on Jedward but sadly they never recovered from the Ghostbusters debacle.

Still, Mr Cowell got to the top of the entertainment money leagues: here he is thanking the Great British public. While 19 million viewers were tuned into the light channel, however, I was watching the Sports Personality of the Year show with the other 14 people. It was a good job the nation was looking elsewhere - they muddled up the prizes, you see. That Welsh footballer chap with the beady eyes was down for a lifetime achievers award (he's 84 afterall) but scooped the top prize. So poor old Jenson Button was left with the runners-up trophy and a speech that no one got to hear.

Here he is being consoled by a dear friend. All things considered, I'd rather have been a runner-up too.

AMK

Santa Billy

More reasons to think that Christmas is a funny old time of year. My usually sensible and stylish friend Billy was in a very strange get-up today.

We were over at his house again this afternoon so M&D could eat mince pies and drink funny-smelling warm wine with their friends, when Billy made an appearance wearing a little red suit that crackled when he walked.

I hope this is only a temporary fashion faux pas and that he'll soon be back to his normal self.

AMK

Now That's a Tree

Saw my old chum Billy today. His Christmas Tree is much better than mine: a black mark against Daddy I'm afraid.



Mummy looks lovely. But I'm worried that Daddy is going to turn me into a mini version of him (note my jeans and silly shirt, and his).

AMK

Daddy's a Lumberjack. Not sure he's Alright.

It's December now. It's a peculiar month, by all accounts; a lot of strange things are happening, but no one but me seems at all bothered.

I am trying to watch Sean the bloomin' Sheep here!

Take today for instance. Adelaide and Damien came to visit, which was nice. Adelaide has a baby in her tummy so I took the opportunity to pass on a few words of wisdom. Daddy and Damien, meanwhile, popped out only to return with a dead tree. Daddy seemed to think I'd be delighted about this. Silly man. It sits there in the corner of the room getting in the way of the tele.

I shall keep my eye out for more peculiar behaviour and will report back.

AMK

My Left Foot.

M&D know a Guernian who went to Australia and became a Yogi Master. Ross Despres, eat your heart out my friend.

AMK