A Pregnant Pause

What with the recession, health problems and an ever increasing workload at the office, there hasn't been much in the way of good news for The Ranter recently. Although Hearts did hammer Aberdeen 5-0 yesterday to lift the gloom considerably. So I was delighted to read that one of Scotland's top bloggers, Groanin' Jock will become a father for the first time in 2011. My very best wishes go to him and the famous 'Mrs Wife' (Jock's blog is an excellent read) for the weeks ahead. It will, of course, be a life changing event for them both and his news set me thinking back to the early summer of 1986 when my elder daughter Laura was born. If you like, a pregnant pause to reflect (okay, give me a break!)

Being a new Dad felt brilliant. Apart from when I had to change dirty nappies. And getting up several times during the night because Laura felt the urge to be fed. And when she would throw up all over me on all too frequent occasions. But, apart from that,…I loved Laura with all my heart (whisper it, but I still do…) When I took her out in her pram, I felt twelve feet tall. I wore that smug look which shouted LOOK AT ME, I’M A DAD, and THIS IS MY BABY…as if no one else were parents. I had a week off work when Laura was born and my wife Pat and our newborn were kept in hospital for four days. Laura had jaundice and my initial horror at this revelation was tempered somewhat when a nurse reassured me this was quite normal in newborn babies. I was in dreamland in the immediate days following the birth before reality kicked in and Pat brought Laura home. Fragile, frightened, screaming….it is fair to say Pat was taking time to adjust to being a mother. But baby Laura was grand. After only six weeks, she was sleeping for most of the night, which came as a huge relief to Pat and me, and, no doubt, to the neighbours.


In the days that followed it seemed half of Aberdeen, where we lived at the time, visited our house to see Laura. Many of Pat’s family appeared have devised a rota system - if it wasn’t her mother it was one of her sisters or brother or some other damn in-law. My family consisted of my mother and she was a regular visitor to see her first grandchild. Pat’s mother had several others but, being an only child, I was the sole provider of grandchildren to my mother. It was such a big event that my father even made the trip north from Cumbernauld. I could see the pride and joy in his eyes when he held baby Laura for the first time and, I don’t mind admitting, it brought a lump to my throat. My father and I became closer when Laura arrived and he and I kept in contact more often than we had done previously. He knew he had missed out on so much of my growing up and he seemed to realise that he didn’t want to miss out on his grand-daughter. In the years that followed, however, events would tragically transpire against him.

More than twenty four years on the events of the summer of 1986 are still very fresh in my mind. Every parent will feel the same. The world may be a troubled place but for Groanin' Jock and his good lady 2011 promises to be the most wonderful of their lives. If I may give Jock one piece of advice - Ibrox isn't the most child friendly of places - but Tynecastle is....

Top Rated on the Ranter's IPod

Groanin' Jock's excellent blog often has musical lists which are quite interesting. I thought I would share with you, in no particular order, the current top-rated tunes on the Auld Reekie Ranter's IPod...

Rum N' Coca-Cola - Wild Billy Childish and the Blackhands

Who'd Have Known - Lily Allen

News of the World - The Jam

Something Better Change - The Stranglers

All I Want to do is Be With You - Paul Weller

All Day and All of the Night - The Kinks

Come See About Me - The Supremes

The Dark Island - The Red Hot Chilli Pipers

David Watts - The Kinks

Diamond Girl - Pete Wylie

Do Anything You Wanna Do - Eddie and The Hotrods

The Eton Rifles - The Jam

Gangsters - The Specials

Geraldine - Glasvegas

I Should Have Known Better - The Skatallites

Hate to Say I Told You So - The Hives

Heatwave - Martha Reeves and The Vandellas

I Could Say - Lily Allen

In God's Hands - Nelly Furtado

Into the Valley - The Skids

It's the Same Old Song - The Four Tops

The King of Rock n' Roll - Prefab Sprout

Lip Up Fatty - Bad Manners

Can't Get Used to Losing You - The Beat

Tears of a Clown - The Beat

Killing me Softly - June 'The Voice of Seattle' Nixon

Oooh Ma Heid!

When I couldn't stop sneezing on Sunday and went through a couple of boxes of Kleenex tissues, I thought I was in for the dreaded ManFlu. As Adullamite, Groanin Jock and other males will tell you, ManFlu can be debilitating, although being men we tend not to complain and just get on with things...But it appears it's just a cold I have instead.

But - it's a head cold. While my beak has dried up somewhat and the sore throat and aches and shivers have eased, I do have a pounding headache, a nagging, incessant pain (and that's nothing to do with the countless Celtic fans who have taken to posting on this site and sending me abusive e-mails following my article in the Hearts match day programme on Saturday!)

For three days now my head has throbbed. Now, as regular readers will know, I'm not one to complain. But if anyone has a suitable remedy for a severe headache please, please pass it on!