Toilets...

This is not my first post about toilets... believe it or not!

Something that's been on my mind for a while are school toilets. Remember when you were at school and toilets were the place to avoid a) because they smell awful and never get cleaned and b) the rumours that the "big boys" are waiting to flush someone's head down a toilet? Well...I never thought there would be a day when I looked forward to using the college toilets but now I work on site I just can't wait for a change of lavatories tomorrow!

Note to anyone visiting this site- go to the toilet before you get here!

Internet Searches...

I can't think of a person who hasn't Googled their own name- often with hilarious results.

With a name as common as "Brown" I have never seen me appear anywhere before page 4 of results- and it often gives suggested related comments to narrow down the results.

Today's search (no, I don't do it every day) offered the following narrowing-downs; "Phil Brown Brothel". Not something I particularly want to be associated with! I much prefer the "Phil Brown Footballer" option!

The Cornfords...

The Cornfords left for Perth 9 months ago today. I know this because Josephine was born the day before they left, in a characteristically laid back fashion. A routine Cornford family visit turned into a rushed 5 minute visit hours before they departed- Josephine was supposed to be born two days earlier but took 47 hours to make an entrance after labour started! Such is our love for the Cornford family (a love that now goes back 3 generations!) that they were to see Josephine even before her doting English Grandparents!

We are truly full of admiration for the Cornfords- especially my wife who knows the harsh and largely unexpected reality of culture shock from one English speaking country to another.

This blog won't offer much more insight than picked up from reading his frequent blogs of his adventures down-under, and will not - and indeed can not - pay a full tribute to the Cornford family, their enthusiasm for the gospel, life and each other... just a note to say that we miss them, love them dearly, that they are never far from our thoughts and prayers and how jealous we are of Sam and Anna Isaacson being out there for the next two weeks!!!

I like that Josephine's life markers will also be a marker for the Cornfords time faithfully serving in Australia... there always has been a nice symmetry to the Brown-Cornfords families!

What a Difference Nine Months Makes...

Yesterday Josephine Kate Brown celebrated her 9th monthiversary! What a difference 9 months can make...

She's gone from this...(day one)

To this...(a few months)

To this...(eight months-ish)

To this...(nine months)

What a stunner! My life has been changed by this girl. In fact, my life has been changed by two females hugely in the last 4 years - I feel like a blessed man indeed. Josephine Kate is the biggest time-waster known to man, I can watch her being her for hours. She looks just like her mom (thank goodness) and has the most relaxed temprement I've ever seen in a baby. I'm biassed, I know, but this is one special little girl who warms the heart of whoever meets her.

She is a tribute to the wonderful mothering of a fantastic woman.

One day soon my little darling will start crawling, walking and talking- she won't seem so little then. I'm cherishing these days with her more than I thought I ever would. At the risk of being soppy... I love my girls!

Snow Snow Snow...

Tom Avery is perhaps the only person I know who's spoken sense about the recent snow falling in London...

What’s so bad about ‘The Big Freeze’?

December 20, 2010 by Tom Avery

Sure, businesses are affected, travels nigh on impossible, it’s cold and wet, the economy suffers and for some inexcusable reason do owners don’t pick up their canine’s doodoo. But look outside! It’s magnificent.


I just do not understand people who don’t like snow! Go and build a snowman, go sledging, have a snow ball fight. What could be better.
I was watching the weather report and couldn’t believe the way the reporter talked about this glorious blanket of white. “Awful amount of snow”, “Thank goodness it’s not snowing in . . .”, “Nasty band of snow”, these were some of the choice phrases he used.
Even better than the fun to be had in snow is the change it effects upon people. Suddenly, you’re talking to people in shops about the snow, delivery men have a story to tell about how they got to your front door, and passersby greet you with a hello and a knowing look is passed between you.


In short, I love snow!

And a congratulations to Tom and Chloe for the birth of their second child, Rocco Winston Thomas Avery, born 13th December!

Bah Humbug...

Our church small group recently came together for a lovely Christmas party... when we heard Band Aid's Do They Know It's Christmas Time/ Feed the World. We proceeded to rip this song to piece's (despite it's charitable qualities), a few lines were the main sources of annoyance.

a) Bono sings like his life depends on it the following words "Well tonight thank God it's them instead of you" ... real charitable, Bono, real charitable. If I were a starving whoever, wherever I'd be wanting to kick him in the face. Hard. There's nothing quite like a kick while you're down! Great lyric!

b) They all link arms and declare "There won't be snow in Africa this Christmas..." So what. At the time of writing there wasn't any snow in England any Christmas. Do you think African pop-stars get together in the summer all declaring "There won't be sun in Eng-er-land this summer..."??? Me neither.

c) "Where the only water flowing is a bitter sting of tears... Where nothing ever grows, no rain or rivers flow" Whoa! Way harsh!

Great chorus though!

Done and Dusted (Literally)...

We've done it. We're officially moved out. Yesterday we had a troop of friends helping to get the last bits out and thoroughly clean the place. We have some absolutely amazing friends out there - there were even people scrubbing our oven who I had literally never met or seen. Ridonculous.

I don't really know who reads this, if anyone, other than Sam, Ben and my hot hottie of a wife, and as such I write as if no one is really reading. Sometimes I get too mad, or sad, or whatever...unguarded you might say.

Leaving the house has brought out so many differing emotions in me. Last night I shocked at how I was feeling...utterly selfish. Essentially we're being kicked out of our house against our will at Christmas time. What an ultimatum to give*.

So our incredible friends have offered to put us up until we can find the right house, at the right price, in the right location. A monumental gesture of friendship in allowing us to completely invade their lives. Yet we don't want to be there. It's an amazing house and we have more than enough space - we even need to use the baby monitor now to hear our child cry!

I hate feeling like this because I think of the many hundreds of thousands of people worldwide living without a roof over their heads. I think about large families squashed into one tiny room because that's all they can afford. I get sad because we can no longer host as we choose, that it's not a "what we want, when we want it" rulebook temporarily. I keep thinking "this sucks"... but does it? It's a huge blessing! We're just being caught up in God's great grace. I know that we'll have the perfect place soon - I think I just need to adjust my attitude in the meantime**.


*Please note "kicked out" isn't due to rent payments etc etc, they are proposing putting another level on our building so the who block got given notice.

**Disclaimer - the couple putting us up are a wonderful couple. They are generous beyond belief, understanding and sympathetic to our situation, and have been great friends to Liz and I since their arrival in England. We have utmost respect for them. This blog is no way construing that they are a suffocating presence (in their own house, no less!!) or by any means lessening out quality of life. We love them dearly and are so grateful for all they are doing and have done for us.

My Phenomenal Wife...

My wife is utterly phenomenal. Like ridiculous. I can't believe her endurance.

Right now she is doing everything. Everything. We move house on Saturday, and I've barely lifted a finger. She's done it all, and she's done it all whilst looking after a teething baby, getting up for night feeds, cooking me dinner, letting me gate-crash marriage night with studies and coping with my grumpy, tired self. She's putting up with chaos at home with moving bits everywhere.

My admiration for this woman has at least tripled in the last week, and that's from a tremendously high starting point.

And you know the crazy thing? She'll probably be doing this all over again in a couple of months time. My wife is phenomenal.

Thinly Spread...

It hit me tonight, for the first time really, just how thinly spread I've become.

I long to be the perfect man, but maybe haven't realised just how much that entails until tonight. Don't get me wrong, I will strive to be this guy until my last breath... it's just exhausting!

I am currently trying to be the perfect husband, the perfect daddy, the perfect worker, studier, small group leader, worship team member to name a few things. This coming week could potentially be the most exhausting ever. We are getting closer to moving day (next Saturday) which is an emotional roller coaster in itself. I then have a large project at work being handed in on Friday and am trying to keep my head above water. On top of that I have my first University coursework hand-in on Wednesday, as well as my first examination in Construction Law.

My thought right now is bring on next week, when all of the above craziness will be over, only to be replaced by a whole lot more stuff, I'm sure.

3 Years, 1 Baby, 7 Cars...

I haven’t the time to blog, due to tight work deadlines, but Liz just reminded me that it was our 3 year dating anniversary last week! One of the best decisions ever and a night that would change my life forever. I like to think I’m a stats man, a straight thinker. If you want “outside the box” then I’m not your man.

One of the first things I thought of when “3 years” was brought to my attention was just how many cars we’ve had in that time… for the record, it’s 3 years, 7 cars! Here’s the breakdown

- Skoda Fabia – my housemates car which was leant to me for a year. The car we went on our first date in

- Ford Fiesta – Liz’s insanely beat up (by the end) first car in the UK. Served us amazingly well, despite obviously flaws (and lack of obvious floors dues to Liz’s “dump on site” philosophy!)
- Toyota Carina – Belonged to my sister-in-laws parents. We loved this car for a day – it worked! Day 2, the fuel pump broke, £300. After a month the head-gasket blew. Another car down.

- Vauxhall Vectra – Another car from a friend. This time the turbo was broken – 0-30 in 15-18 seconds. We went no where fast.
- Toyota something – my first Automatic car. Came at the right time, fun to drive until I tried putting the non-existent clutch down which was the break.

- Ford Focus – an almost new car. Work offered me a company car, this was my interim. The car of my dreams since I was a wee lad. Loved it
- VW Golf Estate – At 24 I was choosing a car based on the size of its trunk, unexpected. Received with less than 100 miles on the clock, this will now be our car for 2 and a half years.



Wow…

Tall Stories...

A (none to intelligent) friend once told me that a man who worked in a skyscraper wanted to commit suicide. This man decided to jump out of his office window near the top of the ‘scraper. The story goes that on his decent there was such a huge gust of wind that he was blown back in to the building through his colleagues’ open window.

That’s funny. Not the “suicide” bit, but the ridiculous bit.

It begs the question – who on earth would design a skyscraper with windows that people can either fall in to or out of. That is a huge design flaw and, honestly, asking for trouble. A part that really gets me going is trying to imagine a man working hard at his desk, only for a full sized human being to fall onto it from the sky.

You can’t make this stuff up. No, wait, I think he just did…

Recent Distant Memories...

From nowhere I was just reminded of a conversation I had with my dad the day we brought Josephine home. It went something like this:

Me: I can’t believe she’s so long… she can’t even see her feet

Dad: How far can she see?
Me: About a foot, and she’s 18 inches (or something like that length – I can’t recall exactly)
Dad: She can see her feet!
Me: A foot is 12 inches, Granddad.
Dad: [Laughed a lot] Oh yeah.

It’s a conversation that I don’t expect dad to remember, heck, it’s a conversation I’m surprised I remember. I don’t know what makes it so memorable, or why it warms my heart so much. Was it that it was the first moment I had alone with my hero and my daughter at the same time; was it the fact that dad got it wrong (and he never gets it wrong) because he was overjoyed at seeing his first granddaughter (I assume)? Or maybe it just warms my heart thinking about the early days with my daughter?

She already seems so grown up – supporting her head, occupying herself by talking and playing, the need of independence already and awareness of the outside world- I wonder where the time has gone! I am truly besotted with my daughter – every morning I now have to catch my breath twice; when I realise who I’m married to, and when I get the first glimpse of Josephine before work. I am blessed.

The Man with Many Faces…

Sounds a bit like a great song title, doesn’t it? But increasingly I feel like I have too many personas.

Over the years, I’ve not put much theology or much about Church or Christianity at all in my blog – I even thought of creating a separate blog for such musings; a personal and fun one, and a serious theological one. Actually, such is the impact of God on my life, my everyday thought patterns naturally have my relationship with God splattered all over them.

This week I have been strongly reminded that my confidence should be who God says I am. Looking at scripture, the stand out things is that I am a son of God, and as such am an heir. This should give me increasing confidence in who I am – chosen by the King of kings!

I’ve noticed recently that I am a lot of different people in a lot of different settings. At work, I am quiet, secluded, timid, lacking in confidence because I feel that people will judge my character by how I perform my job – a job in which I still feel I’m finding my feet in despite being here for 2.5 years now. I’m the quiet boy who gets on with his work, who stutters and mumbles and panics and goes red when those in authority ask me questions. At home I’m comfortable and relaxed and feel like I’m the “real Phil” – being around Liz is being in a comfortable environment because I know I can screw up and she’ll still love me and be for me. At leaders meetings at church I’m often quiet, because I’m all too aware that there are many in the room of have a deeper biblical knowledge than I. On the football pitch I am full of confidence, a joker and (I like to think) fun to play with because, actually, I think sport is a strength and this is reflected in my attitude. Around my in-laws I’m quiet, wouldn’t say boo to a ghost, polite because I still feel like I’m trying to make a good impression and come from a completely different culture.

In short, I put on a face dependant on where my comfort zone and confidence is in that particular scenario. They overlap, too. At work, if I’m comparing baby stories, I’m me, because I know about that!

My aim is to have this approach no longer – I am who God says I am, and that’s more than enough for me!!!

Dogs...

I've been in an exceptionally good mood these last few days. I have a loving wife, the cutest daughter in the world and a God who works all things for His glory. Yet I've been in a ranting mood. So we have the following to add to yesterday's rant...

Last night my friend got chased by a large dog. He had to go to hospital, is now on crutches, has many injuries, and had major shock. He broke his phone, he has a family with 3 children under 20 months, he's had to stay off work today.

Can you imagine the outrage if I were to chase a dog down the street for no reason and cause these injuries. Can you imagine the call for me to be locked up.

Why is it that people care more about their pets than, well, people. Why is it that there is a greater call for justice when a man attacks a dog than a dog attacks a man? That's twisted in my opinion.

Tabloids, You Suck...

It was only on Tuesday that I heard the allegations against Mr. Wayne Rooney. when it appeared something was up with England's soccer hope, I investigated for a minute or 2... to be greeted with this:

"Do you have a story about a star? Call The Sun’s newsdesk on 020 7782 4100 Email: exclusive@the-sun.co.uk"

In bold letters, in the middle of this story. Is it just me, or is this so sleazy it makes me feel a tad nauseous? It makes me wonder if this self-styled "prostitute" saw this banner somewhere and new how to make a few bucks.

Right now, I'm mad with the media... in less than a week you may have destroyed a whole family over "allegations" which seem to have no basis in truth, only word of mouth, and monopolised our national sport so that I have to pay through the nose to watch them. Which I can't so I don't.

Chipotle London...

Erm... Chipotle has now opened a store in London! Excited... heck yes! I can't wait for my first Burrito... bring it on.

Americanism's

I find that, increasingly, I use way more Americanisms than “Englishisms”. This has also been a conscious decision on my part for a few underlying factors; a) through increasing American contacts and b) the TV and film industry.

Having married an American, I now have an increasing amount of American’s who I’d like to communicate with – the easiest way to do so is through using Americanisms. I don’t feel like this is a bad thing, and I don’t feel like I’m neglecting where I came from or who I am by doing so. The aim is communicating well across the board, no matter who my audience with.

I feel like this is more allowed due to the way TV and film have affected the way we talk and have given us a huge amount of exposure to American culture (albeit probably an exaggerated version). I think about it logically, and actually all of my favourite TV shows (bar Match of the Day and Topgear) are American – even in the sport arena, I’m longing for the NFL season to get up and running again! American’s, in my opinion, do not have the same exposure to English culture. I am using phrases or words such as “diapers” or “stroller” over their English counterparts, “nappies” and “pushchairs”. If truth be told, then I’m sure most of my English friends know exactly what a diaper or stroller is, because we are exposed to that culture and set of words.

It’s not a bad thing, and I don’t feel any guilt in doing this. I just want people to understand me, ya’ll.




P.S. I wonder just how many times in the above I’ve been very “English” as opposed to “American”… is it time for me to eat my words yet?

How Freakin' Cute is My Daughter...?

Josephine Kate is now 8 weeks old. Can you tell how she's already managed to get daddy wrapped around her little finger???

Yesterday was the first day I’ve been “let loose” on a sporting field for about 16 weeks (following Mr. Ben Leaman’s broken shin). It also meant I got my first sporting injury for, ohh, about 16 weeks!

After church we had a picnic and a friendly game of cricket. For those American’s reading who are unsure of cricket, I’ll give you one basic rule that will make this story clearer: If the batsman hits the ball over the boundary line (like the edge of the field in baseball) and it has touched the ground before passing said line, four runs are scored by the batsman.

In this “friendly” game, a friend who was batting just too well hit the ball fairly hard- me being me chased after this ball, and not wanting to let four runs go past me, I slid on my leg for a few metres, stopping the ball with my foot and launching it back towards the bowler. This was the result:



I subsequently had the most painful shower I’ve ever had. Followed by one of the worse nights sleep I can remember. Followed by feeling nauseous all day as a result of lack of sleep/ leg pain. And people thought I’d be tired because of a baby… they obviously don’t know me too well!

The silly thing is, that given the same scenario, with the benefit of hindsight, aware of the risk involved, I’d do exactly the same. Put my body on the line for the win!

It's a Girl...!

It’s probably an indication of how I’ve become a [lacklustre] blogger and a slightly more devoted reader that I feel guilty for not posting about our new delivery yet – despite how demanding having a new baby can be. I think people will be more compassionate about the lack of blogging than the Facebook photo requests, but still, this is my platform to brag about my wonderful daughter!

So, my son certainly knows how to make an entrance – mainly due to the fact a daughter popped out! Josephine Kate was born on Sunday 27th June and thankfully came just in time to save me from the apparent disgrace that was England 1 v 4 Germany. This is the first World Cup in memory that I’ve not suffered some form of England-not-being-as-good-as-I-thought-they-were-depression. This is an indication of how much love I have for out new bundle of joy!

After 47 hours of labour, 4 different world cup games watched, countless games at Wimbledon seen through, wearing my Marathon Men tee for most of the duration (I think Liz blames this a tad), Liz kicking my butt at Nerts a few times despite having awful contractions and having a diet of Doritoes and Haribo for three days, a wonderful surprise package came out.

It took me three attempts to wipe away tears and check to see if it really was a daughter before coming to the conclusion that our darling girl must have produced the mother of all finger-wieners during our 12 week scan. Proud moment for me right there. What’s more is that despite calling her “him” for so long, it didn’t feel weird or wrong holding a daughter, it felt natural and right. Not that I wouldn’t have been over the moon with a son, but it doesn’t feel like there’s a son shaped hole in our lives – Josie is more than I could ever have wished for and if one day I’m blessed with a son I will be equally overjoyed.

She has gotten all of her positive attributes from her mom – her good looks and her chilled out personality – and a double chin and big hands and feet from her dad!

In short, I am the proudest man alive – have been for 15 glorious days now (she’s only 12 days old, but the Friday-Sunday of labour Liz was astonishingly laid back, coped fantastically well and made me beam with how well she coped with the ordeal!) and will be for the rest of my life. I know every child is the most beautiful and the most special and loved alive, but Josie is the real deal. There are so many things that I love about her already, when she yawns I swear there is nothing cuter, after she sneezes she makes the most hilariously funny noise which has her dad in hysterics, she finds the best positions to get out poop causing her to either throw herself around my torso or demand mom so that she can poop on her (3 times now!).

I’ll try not to make this a “Phil is bragging about his family again” blog- but no promises. They are simply and utterly wonderful.

P.S. Good luck Sarah Nichols… who is having a girl (??) so very soon. We can’t wait to meet her!

*Regretfully, I will not be posting pictures on this blog – we have taken the stance that only password protected sites will have photos on them.