Sunday, 31 March 2013

Why we moved, from Africa to the USA

This was our house in Africa, good solid brick and mortar.

This is our house in the USA... the buying power is much less here! The house is nice, but it's wooden and old.

This was our pool in Africa..

This is our pool here... actually we don't have one, we have to pay $5 for a swim in the town pool.

This was our tennis court in Africa...

We don't have a tennis court here, the kids play at school.

This was our car in Africa... except this is not the exact car, we had one exactly like it!

This is our car here... Hard to say which we prefer, I love JEEP, but the Chevy is so BIG ! It is Texas after all.

This was our pet in Africa, standing in our orchard of 40 fully grown fruit trees...

This is our pet here in the USA, and one of our baby trees in our orchard of 4.

This is the beach in Africa

This is the beach here...

These are our mountains in Africa

These are the hills here... although to be fair... The Rockies would leave our little African mountains in the shadows.

If you woke up to a noise in Africa it could be


or this,
or maybe this.

If you wake up to a noise in the USA it could be


or this

or maybe this...

And now you know why we moved to the USA.

Monday, 4 March 2013

First Flight

Following in his dad's footsteps, Michael takes to the skies.
His Dad (Stuart) is a 747 pilot, (as well as DC8, KingAir, Citation, Float Planes, Bush Planes...etc)
His Great -Grandfather was an Irish aviator in the Great War.

The Aviator

MK Airlines


Michael, Pilot of the future.

Waiting in the Pilot Lounge, a bit like Biggles but modern day...

Pre-flight checks
On the Taxiway... 

It was an epic moment, when the plane's wheels left the ground.  

Up and Away
This must be the most famous flying poem, it expresses perfectly what flight is to those who love it.... 

 Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of—wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark nor ever eagle flew—
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
high flight - john gillespie magee - 1941

Home Safe
 Always remember Michael... 
There are old pilots, 
and there are bold pilots, 
but here are no old-bold pilots!