The man from F.I.R.S.T. C.O.U.S.I.N. O.N.C.E. R.E.M.O.V.E.D.

Family trip yesterday... as it's my day off, put back into place the mission to go and see my cousin's newborn in Durham'shire that had to be aborted last week (god was it only last week...). Pointed the hellcar in a roughly northerly direction, wasn't happy with what the gauges were telling me so quickly pointed it back home, furtled under the bonnet to reveal that the water levels were fine but there seems to be a mighty oil leak coming from that dodgy cylinder head. Oil refreshed, plugged in the ipod so I didn't have to listen to depressing budget chatter, pointed the pointy toothed demon buggy back in the direction of desired travel...

Drove what I regard as an easy old commute up the east road, M18, M62, A1... used to drive this every week in different times and I like the run. Stopped off enroute at Leeming, a very pretty fighter airfield I know in North Yorkshire where the Dutch airforce have some choppers living for the week; a Chinook's not the most attractive thing in the world, but Leeming is the nicest backdrop to any airfield photography I've yet come across with those lovely rolling hills, so I'll stick in a pic anyway.

Just a five minute stop over to grab that shot, check my maps and head off again. On the way, saw in action what I believe is called a "rolling stop"; five police cars crowded around one dark estate at slow speed, two more with all lights on slowing down the traffic behind to keep space for them. I think for future trips the smart plan would be to continue towards Newcastle and turn back on myself, rather than do the logical thing and come off at Newton Aycliffe and go up the old main road, which is of course the direct route. The direct route is ok, but bottlenecks like a mad bottlenecking thing west of Durham, but I eventually got to the village where my rellies are living. It's a lovely spot, the sort of houses I'd give my eye teeth to move to and the sort of place that constantly knacker any ambition I have to move back south again. Took a wrong turning or two finding their house, ended up on top of a tall hill overlooking the village, with a field with a number of friendly horses standing at the stone wall lit from the side by the golden light of the dipping sun... I'd have loved to have stopped to take a picture - it was gorgeous, but I had places to be and people to see.

One of the things about me is that I'm a pretty sound judge of character, based purely upon gut instinct. I can smell a wrong'n at twenty paces. I've never had that aroma from my cuz's husband who's one of those rare blokes I instantly liked from first meeting, a really good egg. First time I've been to their pad, lovely stone built terrace, south facing living room that gets the sun, and nice gardens. Nice people in a nice place in nice weather. What can go wrong? First order of business.... what is Shadey Mike going to be called as far as young Megan is concerned? Uncle Mike, Cousin Mike or just Mike? Hadn't actually thought about this, I was of the "don't mind, whatever you guys are comfortable with" frame of mind. So Uncle Mike it is. In fact, if you're TV geeky I'm the man from uncle. Hey, actually this is quite cool. One of the sods with being an only child, as I am is that you don't get to be an uncle. Not that I am now really, and not that I was overly bothered with it beforehand, but it's still quite cool. Oh, and the baby? Healthy, reletavely well behaved for a small person with no bowel control and no time to learn manners, and still with a full head of dark hair. Cute, if I may say so without everyone thinking I've resigned my address in Planet Bloke and actually grown up at last. Got a memory card full of pictures for the female rellies down south, I'm not putting one up here, sorry. Hub's brother turned up, likeable chap... mother and child bugged out to safety while the lads talked geeky things, such as how to make things explode using ordinary household chemicals. Ah, my rellies........ !!!

Scuttled away back south at a sensible hour, as their world is completely full of baby spotters at the moment and it only seems fair to give the poor guys some space, pointed the seething evil that is Christine in the direction of the south east again. Returned to Leeming to spot the remainder of the choppers that had returned home, having been away on their afternoon mission when I'd been there first time around and pressed the button marked "home, James", pausing only to pick up a tasty fish and chip supper (yes I know it's bad for my waistline, man is merely man) and back to Fortress Shadey and locked the door.

Oh, and beer review... St Judes Ipswich Bright. Not a lot of fizz, northerners won't like it. Quite a bit of sediment in the beer, puts one in mind of a good homebrew rather than a professional drop. But it's early days, and I've got several more bottles to try!