The art of being badly prepared

Ok, ok. So I overdid it a bit last night. And this morning probably started a bit earlier than it might have done. And half an hour into a naming ceremony was not a good time to be reminded that I'd offered to take photos... Happily the ceremony was being videoed and equally happily the parents know I'm a bit rubbish (you do, don't you?) Anyway, I'm really not suited, with my crippling shyness, for that kind of "Hi, would you just stand together so I can take a photo" kind of photography, and the hangover certainly didn't help either bravery or steadiness... But I think there are some cute shots, which will be mailed off this week. And I say that because then I have to put down the paintbrush and do it instead of adding it to the list of photo projects I keep meaning to get to...

Anyway, it was a lovely do - so many friends I don't see often enough, and lots of my friends' family who I hardly ever see. There were poems (including one impeccably read by my godson - the brother of the boy of the moment), speeches and a spot of communal singing lead by the 'house band' comprising Mr Lesley, the mum (yesterday's lurker)'s brother, and Mr B. Rather impressively when asked if they could play something appropriate afterwards while lunch was being served, and I suggested 'Sweet Child of Mine', they played a perfect acoustic version with no practice. Now Mr B and Mr Lesley (oh, let's call him Carl, that being his name) have played the song on the instruments they had today (piano and guitar respectively) but I'm sure M had never played the melody on his violin, but did so straight off. Pretty cool, the lot of them.

Anyway, after the boy was named, caked and toasted; and much chat had been had, it was time to head back to Lesley's for loafing, and then a fine barbecue, with high jump interlude. I think my scissor kick technique literally raised the bar and lead to much fun while everyone tried to get the hang of it. Though the prize should go to the highest jump, I prefer to give it to the jumper bravely wearing the shortest skirt (you know who you are).

This is a wee boy running away to give me another chance to get a decent shot of him running towards me. Sweetheart. I'm delighted it's still easy to bribe kids to have their photo taken by promising to show them it on the little screen. (Ends around age 3 in my experience.)