Liverpool Photography Shenanigans, and an Epic Family Visit Down South
It's been a busy weekend so far!
On Friday, Jason and I went to Liverpool so that I could take some photos around Liverpool One and Albert Dock. Waking up in the morning to a clear blue sky, completely cloudless, was an excellent start - better lighting, after all, means better shooting conditions. We got ready to go, played Skyrim a bit to pass the time, and when it was time to set off, the day was suddenly overcast.
We'd originally planned to go on Thursday, but that had been called off due to poor lighting, so I decided we'd take a risk and go regardless; we needed to get some shopping done anyway so it wouldn't be an entirely wasted trip. On the way there, the sun came out again - it would turn out to be one of those days where it was in and out of the clouds all day long.
Our first stop was KFC for food. Then, realising the weather was getting warmer and I had a wardrobe full of knitwear, I picked up a few lighter articles for the summer months. After that, we went around Liverpool One for an hour or so, stopped for coffee, took a quick walk through the famous Cavern Quarter (which we happened upon entirely by accident), back into Liverpool One and then to Albert Dock. Later on, I uploaded my photos and found I'd taken 121 in total - all in all, a good shoot!
By now, he will have shaved off his legendary face fuzz. It won't be gone for long, mind, because it grows back so quickly. He admitted that he was feeling a little down on Friday because he felt 'ugly' with the beard - it made me quite sad to think that even now, years after leaving high school, where he had so much grief about his appearance from idiots, he still feels so paranoid about the way he looks. What makes me even sadder is that he feels that way even though I've never been more physically attracted to a person than I am to him; I adore every little part of him, and that includes his beard.
He makes me feel so good about myself - he's the first guy who's ever made me feel gorgeous. I hope that one day I'll be able to help him feel the same; to help him rise above his insecurities. I was picked on about my appearance throughout high school as well, but I don't really know how extreme his bullying was. I know it was enough for him to avoid school for the last two years of it. It's not like he was skiving out of laziness - he's got a determination to do well second only to Holly.
Maybe one day he'll open up a bit more about it. I haven't told him much myself other than that I was picked on through school... When he feels ready, we can share our experiences. He still struggles with the consequences of those experiences, where I've accepted what happened, decided my bullies were immature idiots and moved on, so I'd like to help him put them well and truly behind him.
On Saturday, Dad, Auntie Avril, Nathan, Ashley and myself drove down to Northamptonshire to visit our Uncle Adrian. It was an immense drive; two an a half hours there, two and a half back - culminating in us being on the road about five hours in total. We were at Adrian's for about three hours, so all in all we were out for eight hours. What a drive!
Adrian is the youngest of Nanny Grace's brood; Dad's youngest sibling, and the second of two disabled children in the family - our late Auntie Sharon had a learning disability after a seizure as a baby (I recall being told that Meningitis was the cause), and Adrian has Down's Syndrome. Nanny Grace, knowing that she was ill and didn't have much time left, scoured the country for the best homes available for them, and in the end succeeded.
The last time I saw both Adrian and Sharon, I was only about six or seven; that was at Nanny Grace's funeral. Now, Adrian's nearing fifty. His birthday's in April, a few days after my Dad's. He's as cheeky as ever, though; salutes Dad (my Dad's ex-Navy) whenever he walks into the room, and he has the most adorable, genuine smile. He doesn't speak much, but he doesn't really need to - he's so expressive just in the way he smiles and laughs... plus he knows sign language!
The place he's at is basically a big house - not the huge, nursing home sort of setting you would expect - where the residents are encouraged to get involved with the day-to-day running of things. Adrian himself is so tidy; when I put my teacup on the floor (a terrible habit of mine), he politely moved it to the coffee table, and when we were going upstairs to see his room, he made a quick detour into the kitchen to pick up his washing, which is something I'd never bother doing. I'd probably go upstairs, realise I'd left it, decide I couldn't be bothered and it would stay in the kitchen for a fortnight.
Adrian's room is amazing. It's basically a little shrine to the family; full of photographs. He's got a photo of Granda Bill being 'arrested' outside of 10 Downing Street (apparently part of a Granada TV tour), and a lovely portrait of Nanny Grace. One of his six sisters with Nanny Grace sat in front, and some really cute photos of himself as a wee lad. On the wall opposite the door, a fantastic collage including pictures of Sheba, Nanny Grace's German Shepherd (the one she used to breed a few litters), Sharon and various family members.
He has yet more photos in albums in the bottom drawer of his dresser, all arranged and labelled beautifully. Apparently whenever he feels a bit melancholy, he sits in his room and goes through them - something I can definitely relate to. In Ireland I was addicted to my photo collection, especially the ones I took when I was back home at Christmas.
He's on holiday for a week now, down on the South coast of England. Sharon left him a camera, so he'll be able to take loads of pictures while he's there.
I really, really hope we can go and see him again. He's so sweet, and such a laugh. The next time we go will probably be for his birthday - the whole family's invited, so no doubt I'll be able to see everyone and get loads of pictures myself. Plus, when Auntie Avril's done with her well-deserved month in Cyprus (she's had a tough year, after supporting, then losing Sue, and then losing Sharon within two weeks of Sue's death), she'll be bringing Adrian up north for a few days, so we'll probably see him then.
I tell you what, though, driving doesn't normally knacker me, but on the way back I was nodding off. I could tell that Dad was in a great mood after the visit, because he bought us a chippy tea afterwards for the first time in over a decade!
Before I go, a little story about Adrian. When he was younger, he was an absolute nightmare for escaping. Dad used to chase him all over the Trees Estate. He liked to run off to the High Street and stand on the roundabout, because he'd figured out after a few attempts that, by doing so, he'd get a ride home in a police car. He liked police cars, so he ran off to get a ride home in one. Genius, really!
On Friday, Jason and I went to Liverpool so that I could take some photos around Liverpool One and Albert Dock. Waking up in the morning to a clear blue sky, completely cloudless, was an excellent start - better lighting, after all, means better shooting conditions. We got ready to go, played Skyrim a bit to pass the time, and when it was time to set off, the day was suddenly overcast.
We'd originally planned to go on Thursday, but that had been called off due to poor lighting, so I decided we'd take a risk and go regardless; we needed to get some shopping done anyway so it wouldn't be an entirely wasted trip. On the way there, the sun came out again - it would turn out to be one of those days where it was in and out of the clouds all day long.
Our first stop was KFC for food. Then, realising the weather was getting warmer and I had a wardrobe full of knitwear, I picked up a few lighter articles for the summer months. After that, we went around Liverpool One for an hour or so, stopped for coffee, took a quick walk through the famous Cavern Quarter (which we happened upon entirely by accident), back into Liverpool One and then to Albert Dock. Later on, I uploaded my photos and found I'd taken 121 in total - all in all, a good shoot!
By now, he will have shaved off his legendary face fuzz. It won't be gone for long, mind, because it grows back so quickly. He admitted that he was feeling a little down on Friday because he felt 'ugly' with the beard - it made me quite sad to think that even now, years after leaving high school, where he had so much grief about his appearance from idiots, he still feels so paranoid about the way he looks. What makes me even sadder is that he feels that way even though I've never been more physically attracted to a person than I am to him; I adore every little part of him, and that includes his beard.
He makes me feel so good about myself - he's the first guy who's ever made me feel gorgeous. I hope that one day I'll be able to help him feel the same; to help him rise above his insecurities. I was picked on about my appearance throughout high school as well, but I don't really know how extreme his bullying was. I know it was enough for him to avoid school for the last two years of it. It's not like he was skiving out of laziness - he's got a determination to do well second only to Holly.
Maybe one day he'll open up a bit more about it. I haven't told him much myself other than that I was picked on through school... When he feels ready, we can share our experiences. He still struggles with the consequences of those experiences, where I've accepted what happened, decided my bullies were immature idiots and moved on, so I'd like to help him put them well and truly behind him.
On Saturday, Dad, Auntie Avril, Nathan, Ashley and myself drove down to Northamptonshire to visit our Uncle Adrian. It was an immense drive; two an a half hours there, two and a half back - culminating in us being on the road about five hours in total. We were at Adrian's for about three hours, so all in all we were out for eight hours. What a drive!
Adrian is the youngest of Nanny Grace's brood; Dad's youngest sibling, and the second of two disabled children in the family - our late Auntie Sharon had a learning disability after a seizure as a baby (I recall being told that Meningitis was the cause), and Adrian has Down's Syndrome. Nanny Grace, knowing that she was ill and didn't have much time left, scoured the country for the best homes available for them, and in the end succeeded.
The last time I saw both Adrian and Sharon, I was only about six or seven; that was at Nanny Grace's funeral. Now, Adrian's nearing fifty. His birthday's in April, a few days after my Dad's. He's as cheeky as ever, though; salutes Dad (my Dad's ex-Navy) whenever he walks into the room, and he has the most adorable, genuine smile. He doesn't speak much, but he doesn't really need to - he's so expressive just in the way he smiles and laughs... plus he knows sign language!
The place he's at is basically a big house - not the huge, nursing home sort of setting you would expect - where the residents are encouraged to get involved with the day-to-day running of things. Adrian himself is so tidy; when I put my teacup on the floor (a terrible habit of mine), he politely moved it to the coffee table, and when we were going upstairs to see his room, he made a quick detour into the kitchen to pick up his washing, which is something I'd never bother doing. I'd probably go upstairs, realise I'd left it, decide I couldn't be bothered and it would stay in the kitchen for a fortnight.
Adrian's room is amazing. It's basically a little shrine to the family; full of photographs. He's got a photo of Granda Bill being 'arrested' outside of 10 Downing Street (apparently part of a Granada TV tour), and a lovely portrait of Nanny Grace. One of his six sisters with Nanny Grace sat in front, and some really cute photos of himself as a wee lad. On the wall opposite the door, a fantastic collage including pictures of Sheba, Nanny Grace's German Shepherd (the one she used to breed a few litters), Sharon and various family members.
He has yet more photos in albums in the bottom drawer of his dresser, all arranged and labelled beautifully. Apparently whenever he feels a bit melancholy, he sits in his room and goes through them - something I can definitely relate to. In Ireland I was addicted to my photo collection, especially the ones I took when I was back home at Christmas.
He's on holiday for a week now, down on the South coast of England. Sharon left him a camera, so he'll be able to take loads of pictures while he's there.
I really, really hope we can go and see him again. He's so sweet, and such a laugh. The next time we go will probably be for his birthday - the whole family's invited, so no doubt I'll be able to see everyone and get loads of pictures myself. Plus, when Auntie Avril's done with her well-deserved month in Cyprus (she's had a tough year, after supporting, then losing Sue, and then losing Sharon within two weeks of Sue's death), she'll be bringing Adrian up north for a few days, so we'll probably see him then.
I tell you what, though, driving doesn't normally knacker me, but on the way back I was nodding off. I could tell that Dad was in a great mood after the visit, because he bought us a chippy tea afterwards for the first time in over a decade!
Before I go, a little story about Adrian. When he was younger, he was an absolute nightmare for escaping. Dad used to chase him all over the Trees Estate. He liked to run off to the High Street and stand on the roundabout, because he'd figured out after a few attempts that, by doing so, he'd get a ride home in a police car. He liked police cars, so he ran off to get a ride home in one. Genius, really!