Lest We Forget

Lets not pretend we aren't all digitally lobotomised magpies, wallowing in the glory of Shlomo and the latest content and forgetting about where it all began. And contrary to the the orthodox view, it didn't begin in Africa but with Nancy. Aah Nancy. Sweet sweet Nancy. She has taken to the role of big sister with aplomb and remains intent on giving Esther the sort of education that would put that of J S Mill in the shade. However, much like her promise to change Esther's nappies whether this will actually happen is open to much debate.

Nancy has recently lived through her first world book day experience, attending as Queen Celeste - in her own inimitable style which is documented below. She had asked to be any number of characters - Miss Tiddlywinks, John Galt, Elmer the Elephant, Queequeg and Fantastic Mr. Fox but after some suitably negotiation (that might be more broadly characterised as parental manipulation) she settled on Celeste. Which was handy as we already had an elephant outfit and it went off rather will.

Thanks to the luxury of paternity leave, one has much more time to ponder on things, and ponder on Babar I have (as well as constructing sentences like Yoda). Babar is quite a harrowing story - his mother is murdered by a hunter (an allusion to the callous power of the white man) at which point Babar runs off to the city and is taken under the wing of an elderly woman and her tutor only to return triumphant to his people, be crowned King and then build a city in honour of his wife. Is it an apology for empire and the benefits of civilising unruly natives all under the gently watch of the old Lady (representing the invisible, insidious hand of the imperial centre manipulating events to their benefit), who before Babar returned and built them a city had been happy to play freely with nature? Or is it about the emanicipation of an individual who returns to with the fruits of western thought and modernity and applies this to his own society - like an Elephantine Ataturk? If this is the case, presumably Celesteville might now have fallen into the hands of Elephant extremists rejecting this modernist flim flam and hell bent on creating a Elephant Caliphate. Or is it a defense of the city and urban culture? Or is it simply a story about an Elephant who has an excellent dress and is the ideal of the platonic philosopher king. Frankly, who cares.

This is what happens on paternity leave. Among nappies, long walks to far flung pubs, and general familial loveliness your mind wonders onto subjects that are otherwise crowded out by the dulling exertions of working life. Or at least that is my experience.

Anyway. In honour of our most wonderful and beloved first daugher, I'm keeping to 1000% Old Skool with these pictures,

Joey in a pouch

Jurassic Park.

It's a lobster NOT a crab, Daddy

OMG

Queen Celeste. Imperial Stooge?