I’ve been hoarding pictures of Freddles for the past few years now…
And my sister sort of cracked the biggest shitfest ever when she discovered a picture from Fred’s christening (way back when) in the book my aunt put together to celebrate the life of my grandmother. The situation was made even worse when she saw the scrapbooked page of us all that I’d done. Eep.
So now I have to put nearly three years worth of photographs onto CD for her and my dad and my mum and just about everyone else in the family.
Is there a way to batch convert RAW files to jpg?
Anyway, I guess I should also add to my tales of the life of Fred… He loves horses.
No, seriously. He LOVES horses.
It all started with a horse at the local pony club called Boof. Boof as in rhymes with “hoof” of the horsey variety. And then Donkey, from Shrek. A movie I have now watched probably 491 times this year alone.
See, Donkey turns into a HORSEY in Shrek. Which just, you know, makes him the COOLEST DONKEY EVER. And I get a very patient explanation of how Donkey gets turned into a horsey at the precise moment when Donkey… turns into a horsey. Mind you, that’s all still in Fred’s patented Swahili Baby Speech…
My mum’s sisters worship all things equine and while my sister and I liked the occasional pony ride and patting the horses, we were never really adamant that we must own one of those magnificent creatures. Plus we’re both terribly allergic to them which I am sure had something to do with our interest levels. Simple put, the pure and all encompassing love of horses passed us by. It skipped a generation and hit Fred full force in the chest.
So now whenever we see anything horse-shaped there will be much excitement and of course every time we drive past the pony club he calls out for Boof who I am sure would come if he could hear an almost-three-year-old in a moving car with the windows wound up - providing there were carrots involved.
Fred loves horses so much that when Nanny bought him a stuffed toy horse, he decided he would ride it. And ride it he does. With stuffed horse jammed between his legs and little fingers grasping tightly to straining ears, Fred gallops (ok, it’s not so much a gallop as a waddle-hop but it’s incredibly cute) around the house like a maniac, exciting dogs, cats and thoroughly amused aunties alike. The poor horse is a bit thin around the middle from being ridden around so much, and slept on, and cuddled, and chewed on…
And, oh my god, don’t get me started on Xena. He loves Xena too. Xena as in “Warrior Princess, The”. We’ve had bike pumps, which make great swords, shoved down the back of jumpers just so they can be yanked out Xena-style to ward off would-be evil doers. The acrobatics, the swords, the action. He loves it all. He wants to be Xena.
And XENA ON A HORSE sends him into conniptions.
