4 Thousand Words...

So, it turns out that Photobooth is probably my favourite ever application on a computer!!! I love pictures, and it's kind of lame, but because I don't have a working camera, this is one of my few ways to document good old memories (apart from my sense of smell- thanks for that Spooner).

Here are some of my recent favourites:

Teeth galore here...

How mashed up various doctors and surgeons have made my shoulder look- pretty manly!

3 members of my household- amazing guys- trying to look like Groucho Marx...

All in all, I'm not very good at documenting my favourite moments- thank heavens for Photobooth!!!

Out and A-Bolt

Bowing out of the football charades in style was always going to be my big aim prior to being in a football wilderness, a barren patch longer than I've ever experienced. 6 goals in two days and a probable red card (or two) was enough to keep me happy- and will have to serve me well for the next 6 months.

On Wednesday 16th April I kissed the footballing world behind with an operation that will keep me out until October 2008- it already feels like a long time since last venturing onto the football pitch, with 3 more bolts and a major muscle reconstruction that hinders ambition, stubs-out hope and renders that one last game impossible.

Nevertheless, it has given way to a life of luxury and a fresh realisation that I have found my happily ever after (some one's just watched Enchanted!!). Having Elizabeth taking care of me has been a pure delight- as difficult as I have inevitably made it for her. Being pumped to the rim with anesthetic and morphine (God bless the inventor of that concoction), I've spent most of every day asleep. Elizabeth being there when I drop-off, when I wake up and knowing her watchful eye over me has been the greatest blessing I could have hoped for from this operation. There is no one else on this earth that I can imagine being with for such lengthy periods and still love every minute with them more than the last.

In short, the fate of being so distanced from my love of playing football sharply fades away into nothingness when I consider the unconditional love, grace and compassion that Elizabeth has poured upon me in the last 2 weeks. What a woman; what a blessing.

What's in a name...

On a day of excitement, anticipation, a fair amount of boredom, and feelings of awe and anxiety, I'm left with one thought that stands out amongst them all- my name is very boring.

I have much excitement in regards to footballing exploits, previous and impending, anticipation and anxiety, mixed in with a dash of frustration over my imminent shoulder operation.
Anticipating eagerly how well Elizabeth is going to treat me and take care of me in the immediate future.
Having feelings of awe and grandeur about how, despite all the rubbish and battles being thrown in Liz's and my direction, how God could leave such a feeling of calm, assurance and how He would choose to lead me prophetically and stir my heart.

YET, I am distracted by my name. It is brought alive in new capacity via the excitement of starting a new blog- and namely getting a URL for this blog. The sheer commonness of the name Brown has left me with one possible URL: brownphil. Hardly flattering. Hardly a name that will provoke imagery of bronzed skin and sun filled holidays over more commonly associated brown objects. This also sees the pre-chosen name of my first son dashed- River. Parents can be mean, but I am unwilling to take the biscuit here and subject a life of torment... Brown, River.

The mantle my father has carried of the name Brown, the way he has conducted himself, the respect he has commanded, has left it a name spoken with feelings of great memories, close friendships and spiritual maturity- a legacy that will be a momentous feat to live up to. But the feelings remain- there really isn't a lot that can be done with such a name.

Apologies in advance to future generations.