Deb's Digest
Debbie Atkinson’s family life column, as featured in the Southport Visiter.

Monday, 28 September 2009


The London son and his nephew, Oscar share the same birthday so we've just had a weekend of celebrations. We sang Happy Birthday a ridiculous number of times and suffered from cake overload but it was great and we even managed a trip to the beach to see a birthday fly past by the Red Arrows .  Just to show how grown up he was Oscar insisted on walking to the pub for Sunday lunch, wearing his Sunday best.


Uncle and nephew sharing a birthday


now, what can it be.......

surprise 2

aahhh - that's what it was


strolling to the pub


For Sunday lunch


The Red Arrows say Happy Birthday



Saturday, 19 September 2009


Our daughter is in San Francisco. As if that wasn't bad enough I keep receiving worrying texts. Yesterday I got a photo of the Golden Gate bridge with the message "Just cycled over this". The only way it could have been more worrying was if it had said "Just going to cycle over this". Anyway, there's no point in ripping my hair out for the week she's away. There's nothing I can do and should she plummet from the bridge I'm afraid she's on her own, because you wouldn't catch me on a 16-hour flight.

The London son is also giving me cause for concern. He's about to start a new job which could regularly take him to any continent on this earth and not content with that bit of excitement, he spent yesterday paintballing - an activity where you pay good money to be hit and bruised by bullets of exploding paint. I'm not sure where these spirits of adventure come from. Give me a knitting pattern or a good book any day.

Talking of good books. Yesterday I spotted an enormous "Family Devotional Bible" in a charity shop. It's dated 1880 and is full of engravings. I could barely carry it it was so heavy. But for £20 I reckon it was a good buy. I'm just not sure where it's going to go. My mother reckons I should have a pulpit made for it and stand it in the hall - perhaps that's going a bit far.


Just by chance I wandered into the kitchen on Friday as Cash in the Attic was half way through. It was our Cash in the Attic - the one filmed around March  when I bought the Royal Copenhagen dinner service. I ran through to the lounge to tape it then ran back to watch it in the kitchen. There was no sign of us, although I did see my dinner service spread out on a table. That night I watched back what I'd taped and lo and behold, there we were. We must have appeared as I was running from one room to the other (not that we have a mansion with long corridors, it's just that these days running  takes me  some time).


Oscar's first birthday is on the horizon and his mum and dad are planning a party. It's the air show that day and the Red Arrows will be going over his house during the birthday celebrations.  A little white lie and a few photos to back it up would give him something to brag about to his pals in the future.

sept 14 2

He's even got the matching t-shirt

Thursday, 10 September 2009

PAIN IN THE.......

It's like a doctor's waiting room in this family. I've been hacking and coughing like there's no tomorrow, my husband's been walking like old Amos ever since he bent down to pick up his cap during a round of golf and the artist son has been alternately squinting and wearing a patch due to a scratched eyeball.
Oscar, on the other hand has been raring to go, testing our backs, hips and knees as he clambers upstairs, pausing only to rattle the bannister every now and again. We thought we'd have him stumped with a difficult new game of "put the ball in the basket". We were so chuffed when he grasped the concept that everyone in the room cheered loudly and clapped. This he liked. So now we have to repeat the performance every time the ball goes into the basket - which is roughly once every fifteen seconds.


o basket


The ball goes into the basket and we cheer and clap

 I was never one of those people who believed that we stereotype boys and girls according to their gender. Give a boy a train - that's what I say. And Oscar agrees.

o train 2