The Dorset Family
No photographs of the Dorset Family! No opportunities, so here's a photograph of Arthur this morning, saying, 'It's about time we went out for a walk!'On Tuesday evening I had a call from my eldest daughter, asking if it would be all right for her to visit the following day. She had been intending to descend on us without warning, but her elder daughter said, ‘Mum, haven’t you read Janice’s blog? She said that it's lovely to see people, but a little advance notice would be helpful.’
I was surprised at that. I didn’t know that Marnie read my blog. Anyway, Gillian took the advice to heart. On Wednesday, Gillian, her daughters, one son-in-law and all six of her grandchildren arrived. Their dogs remained in Dorset.
Five-month-old Hailey was passed to me and sat happily on my knee watching her cousins. The other three girls, Marnie’s daughter, Isla, who is twelve, Kiri’s daughter, Ariella, four, and Callum’s daughter Melia, two and a half, did what girls usually do. They settled down on the floor with paper and coloured pencils, then gravitated to construction toys with gears and cogs. It’s clear that they spend a lot of time together, giving, taking, and working cooperatively.
Fergus, who is nearly eleven, concentrated on playing with the dogs, particularly Gilbert. He is very much at ease with animals.
Luca was busy pressing buttons and investigating the contents of cupboards and
drawers. He will be three in October and is ‘into everything’ as the saying
goes. He needs a dedicated full-time adult to monitor his actions, and prevent them
if necessary possible. He found the cat litter tray especially interesting.
The texture of the granules was pleasing as it poured through his fingers. Naturally,
the more he was dissuaded from investigating it, the greater was the
fascination. Fortunately, the tray only contained unused litter! The cats were
prowling around, quite unaffected by the sudden influx of people, particularly
small ones.
Gilbert
and Arthur were intrigued by the baby and gently licked her toes, which she
seemed to enjoy. Roxy, of course, is an old hand paw with little humans,
and knew which ones to attend, principally Luca, who was waving his food around
in a tantalising manner.
Barry took Marnie and Dean into the garden, to pick apples and plums, of which there are an abundance. All the children, apart from Hailey, had a turn around the garden – such a Regency phrase!
Our garden is no longer a children’s space, in the sense that they cannot play football, cricket, or tennis in it, or ride their bikes, but it is full of interest. We have tried to divide it into ‘rooms’ with a winding path and arches which support a variety of climbing plants. Actually, it’s more the case that the plants support the arches now.
Marnie was in seventh heaven. Her ambition is to have a self-sufficient garden. She already grows a few vegetables, but has plans for much more when she and Dean can acquire a house with a bigger garden.
She came back into the house laden with fruit, a branch (!) of bay leaves to dry, thyme, oregano, a number of different mint plants, which she can root on, and a great quantity of cobnuts. She and Paul, her father, have been engaged in creating chutneys and pies. The crab apples are not ripe, so she will have to make a return journey to pick those for crab apple jelly. I haven’t made that for some years now as somehow everything in sight gets covered in stickiness.
They had to leave early as Fergus had a football match near Blandford. He’s a tall boy and plays goalkeeper, like his sister, Isla, and just as his mother used to.
All too soon, the house was relatively empty again and peace descended. The dogs and cats slept well, Gilbert retiring to (our) bed shortly after his supper at 6:30.
Tonight, there will be more upheaval for Arthur when Susannah returns. He will be so excited. He’s a lovely little dog, very faithful and affectionate and we shall miss him when he returns to London with Susannah and her cats.
You certainly handled that invasion with aplomb. It's a self sufficient group though, from the sound of things, not waiting to be entertained.
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