My parents are referred to thus by Frank.
My Dad is Monkey Grandad because whenever we go anywhere with them and I'm driving Dad sits in the back with Frank and plays with his toy monkey.
It has suction pads on its paws and they stick it to the ceiling of the van and count as high as they can before it falls.
(East Town Park)My boy and I drove over to see them this weekend, whilst Andrew worked on decorating the dining room. They took us for lunch and then to the park not far from their flat.
(Monkey Grandad pushes the swing)The weather was just glorious.
Too hot for me in fact.
I am most certainly northern European!
( Monkey Grandad, Cheeky Monkey and Granny)We played frisbee, went on the swings and walked along the stream.
(Monkey Grandad and Frank look for fish in the stream)It was a quiet and calm and GOOD day.
I needed it.
Life is returning to normal with Frank feeling well again and Budd being home from Scotland.
We are off camping at a festival in Yorkshire soon and are looking forward to some concentrated family time away from home.
Camping and being at a festival and fitting in injections and blood glucose tests will be interesting. I have a feeling a pump will be on the cards before too long.
My "don't freak me out and talk to me about pumps, la la la, I'm not listening, no more new things for the love of God" approach I used last time to our consultant has become a "Hhmm, so tell me about this pump lark...".
She will, no doubt , give me a gold star for my "Get a grip on yourself woman"chart!
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