Monday, 15 June 2009
Saturday, 13 June 2009
It was that time of year again and we dutifully botted and suited set off for the annual Summer Ball with our good friends, Sean and Helen. A big thanks to the babysitter, Gill, who made sure the children were tucked away safe and sound whilst we drank far too much champagne and danced until our feet bled (literally). A fabulous night was put on by the dedicated school volunteers and hopefully we raised a substantial amount for charity (and the school)! Until next year.....
NOTE: My husband made (sewed) his very own bow tie. he was so enamored with my choice of frock (ie dress) that he set off to the fabric store, picked out a matching colour of fabric, brought it home, made his own pattern, and sewed his very own bow tie. Check him out!!!!
Sunday, 7 June 2009
Saturday, 6 June 2009
Thursday, 4 June 2009
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
Happy 8th Birthday, Sebastian!