An afternoon in the garden

 

An afternoon in the garden

We visited Gareth and Nina and their family on Saturday. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen all of them together. Susannah drove us there, which was very nice of her.

The ‘children’ are all currently living at home, with plans to move out to live in London, where the three of them work, with friends. Everything in London is so expensive, and they know they will have to part with a lot of their hard-earned salaries each month.

It was so nice for Frankie (13) to see his cousins, (27, 25 and 23) He’s had a rough couple of years with many changes, and it was good for him to be greeted and treated as an individual in his own right and not be judged or criticised. He had a wonderful time in their company and they each had something different to offer him.

It was a warm, sunny afternoon and we sat under an enormous adjustable parasol, which has integral lights and sound. We didn’t need the lights, of course, but it was pleasant to listen to different people’s play lists.

Gareth loves preparing and cooking food, so we dined very well, with Nina’s delicious salads accompanying homemade burgers and sausages. The pavlova proved a step too far for most of us, sadly. It looked delicious!

I discovered that Elliot cannot burp. It was not a subject I introduced freely, but he asked me if I still wrote blogs, so I told him about the recent one. He suffers from abelchia and often has to lie flat on his back to relieve the discomfort. This leads to some interesting conversations when he’s out, as strangers offer sympathy - ‘Had a bit too much, mate?’ It cuts short some of his evenings as he is obliged to return home.

It was soon time for us to take our leave. Eve and Louis were planning to go out for the evening and were trying to persuade Elliot to join them. They asked us what we would be doing for the rest of the day. One event a day is quite sufficient for us . . .

Today, Susannah and Frankie, Arthur and the three cats have returned to London. We shall see them again soon. It was very pleasant to have them here for a week.

It feels quiet here now. The dogs and cats are flaked out. We shall go to bed early. The heat is building up again, so early morning walks will be the order of the day once more.

There’s a lot of it about . . .

 

There’s a lot of it about . . .

                               Eve and Barry, twenty years ago

I hear this phrase so frequently and am never sure whether it’s meant in sympathy or censure. I care not at all.

The ‘it’ I refer to is a bug of unknown provenance, since we never go anywhere or see anyone (sn’f, sn’f) Anyway, wherever it popped up its evil little head, it’s got Barry fair and square and he’s coughing and spluttering fit to bust. After a couple of days of me suggesting and then ordering him to bed, he finally complied when he was feeling too rough to tough it out, and there he remains, watching rugby and boxing and Olympics and sleeping, alternating between fiery hot and icy cold.

Another expression that is often heard in such circumstances is, ‘It’s gone to his chest.’ What a silly thing to say. Where else would you expect a chest infection to manifest itself?

Asked how he feels, he either says, ‘A bit better, I think,’ or, more worryingly, ‘Not feeling too good,’ but mention of consulting a doctor brings a robust if slightly wheezy, ‘I’m not that ill.’ So, I continue to dose him at regular intervals and lie in bed at night listening to him breathing. If I can’t hear him breathing, I lay hands on him, though not in a miracle performing way, to assure myself that his lungs are inflating and deflating rhythmically. This is something I have been doing for decades, literally. I’m always quite relieved to hear him snoring, though it’s sometimes difficult to ascertain precisely which mammal in the bedroom is sawing logs.

He’s currently on day 6 of the affliction so hopefully he will start genuinely feeling better soon. He’s just told me he’s got a bad case of Man Flu, so there’s a glimmer of humour appearing again. He’s normally a very positive person – generous, too, as I now have a scratchy throat and headache and feel hotter than the warm day would warrant.

There’s a lot of it about . . .

In happier news, it’s my youngest granddaughter’s birthday today. Eve is twenty-three – I remember that age. It was lovely.

Sunday’s child

 

Sunday’s child

                      Gillian, the first Sabbath Day child in my family

        Mondays’ child is fair of face,

Tuesday’s child is full of grace.

Wednesdays’ child is full woe,

Thursday’s child has far to go.

Friday’s child is loving and giving,

Saturday’s child works hard for its living,

But the child that is born on the Sabbath Day

Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.

Printed variations of this little nursery rhyme have been appearing since 1838, but the tradition of foretelling a child’s future from the day on which it was born goes back to the 1570s.

For most people it is a harmless piece of nonsense, though I did know one woman who was desperate not to give birth to her child on a Wednesday. I don’t know how serious she was, but she had some odd behaviours, so maybe she was superstitious, too.

                         Eve, the second Sabbath Day child in my family

I know the rhyme has sometimes been adapted to make Wednesday seem less doom-laden.

 Louis, the third Sabbath Day child in my family

I am indebted to Michelle Pauli, writing in the Guardian in 2005, for further information on the old rhyme. She wrote that the ‘Original Book of Knowledge’, published in 1775, proclaimed a different set of prophesies.

‘A Child born on Sunday shall be of long Life and obtain great Riches; 

A Child born on Monday shall be weak, and of an effiminate Temper, and seldom come to Honour. 

A Child born on Tuesday, shall be given up to the Inordinate Desire of Riches, and is in danger of dying by Violence. 

A Child born on Wednesday, shall be given to the Study of Learning, and shall profit thereby. 

A Child born on Thursday, shall arrive to great Honour. 

A Child born on Friday, shall be of a strong Constitution, but very letcherous; and if it be a Female, she is in great danger of turning Whore. 

A Child born on Saturday, shall be dull and heavy, and of a dogged Disposition, and seldom come to good.'

According to this version, the most favourable days to be born are Sunday, Wednesday and Thursday. The rest of the week is a dead loss!

Some wedding photos . . .

It's hard to realise we celebrated Bethan and Robert's wedding just over four weeks ago!

Barry and Bethan 

Image copyright Kerry Morgan

Bethan and Robert, man and wife

Image copyright Kerry Morgan

Bethan and Robert

The bridesmaids

Image copyright Kerry Morgan

Bethan and Eve

Janice and Bethan

Eve, Kiri, Susannah and Marnie

The First Dance . . . 

Image copyright Kerry Morgan

Of dogs and children . . .

There’s nothing preferential in the order of subjects in the title – it just trips off the tongue better that way.

You may have registered my absence from the blog world, apart from a few comments here and there. I have taken up bed and breakfast duties - at least that’s what it has felt like for a few days.

It’s half-term in UK, a time when teachers sigh wearily with relief at the thought of a few days away from the demands of their students. The schools close for a week and the streets and shops are thronged with happy children and their sometimes fraught parents.

Gareth was scheduled to go to New York on business and as the trip fell in half-term Nina seized the opportunity to accompany him and visit friends in the city. Accordingly they asked if their children might come and stay with us for a few days. Naturally, we were delighted and so I drove to Buckinghamshire to collect them last Thursday. The car was filled with excited chatter as we returned to Berkshire, a lot of it being speculation about how much Bertie would have grown since they last saw him.

The dogs, Gus in particular, were delighted to see the children and made a big fuss of them. In their turn they greeted the dogs and were amazed at Bertie’s size.

On Friday, Eve and I went to the garden centre where she chose violas and cyclamens for our tubs. We intended to plant them but just didn’t find the time. Elliot and I went to the bottle bank to deposit glass bottles and jars.

In the evening Gillian and her children arrived. Paul was still working on their central heating – it’s an intricate affair with what seems like miles of copper pipes, comprising a solid fuel burner with a back boiler to provide hot water, heated radiators and under floor heating in their conservatory. It’s complicated and time-consuming simply because Paul can only work on it when he’s finished his day job working on other people’s replacement kitchens, bathrooms, boilers. It’s a busman’s holiday for him, poor man!

The cousins were very happy to see each other. The last time they were all together was in August when we went camping.  The boys slept together and Kiri and Eve shared a bed. Marnie found their giggling too much and invaded Gillian’s bed.

The next three days passed in a blur of children of varying shapes and sizes and dogs of different ages with Winston alternately cuddled by young humans or chased by puppies. The children swam in the pool – sometimes twice a day - and we walked in the forest each day. 

That was always a protracted affair with several people and dogs but the weather was beautiful, with warm sun and clear skies.

On Sunday evening we had a birthday supper for Marnie as it was to be her eighteenth birthday on Tuesday and she was going home on Monday. Despite Gillian’s best endeavours to leave early it was evening by the time they set off, having walked and swum and eaten together once more. We gave Marnie her present – a satnav to ensure she need never get lost in her car - and she used it in tandem with Gillian’s device on their journey back to Dorset.

After Gillian and her family had left, the house felt strangely quiet, although there were still two adults, three children, three dogs, one puppy and a cat. The dogs felt it, too. Bertie seemed quite bereft, having spent all his time with Buster, even sleeping with him at night in the puppy pen in our room. He made up for it by chasing Winston even more exuberantly than ever. Gus had missed playing with Bertie who had been completely absorbed in frolicking with Buster, so he was happy to have his playmate back.

On Tuesday, we walked to the village and played ‘guide dogs’ on the way. This game involves one person pretending to be blind and being guided by the others. I was amazed by the children’s wholehearted participation.  Louis was the first to play blind, and he shut his eyes and trusted his safety completely to his siblings. Elliot and Eve were the same in their turn.

After lunch the children and I took the dogs out. We left Bertie at home as he was very tired after the weekend’s exertions. The sun was shining in a blue sky when we began our afternoon walk but soon the heavens opened and we felt the full force of Nature’s power shower. Eve and Louis had hoods on their tops so were partially protected. Elliot and I had no head covering and were soon drenched. Fortunately there was no wind or we would have been chilled very quickly. We all had hot showers and a change of clothes when we got home.

The children knew that Nina was due to land on Wednesday and were up and packed very early in the morning. In the way that children approach these things they had forgotten about the clothes I had washed! They were so pleased to see their mum again and to be back in their own surroundings. Nina had had a wonderful time catching up with old friends but she had missed her children just as they had missed her. I know they enjoyed staying with us and spending a lot of time with the animals and we loved having them but there really is no place like home. 

Gareth flies into UK on the 'red eye' on Saturday and I know he will be relieved to be home once more.

I had forgotten just how much time is spent preparing food, clearing up after meals, washing, tidying, overseeing children. To think I used to do it automatically and go out to work full-time! Now my daughter and daughter-in-law execute the same tasks without even thinking about them. 

So now it’s just Barry and me and the animals again. Our house never feels completely empty but it was lovely to have young ones with us again for a while. Children fill a home in a way that no other beings can J 

Camera Critters #175, Pet Pride

Some of my favourite people, two-leggers and four-leggers, met in Somerset last weekend.

Barry, the one who takes the really GOOD photographs on this blog. We celebrated our 44th wedding anniversary yesterday.

Never too big to play with little children's toys!

Left to right: Elliot, Callum, Kiri, Louis

Frodo and Gus - boys together

Eve makes a big fuss of Gus

Tia 

Louis chats to Jenna

Frodo, Gus, Foxy

Marnie takes a rest

The gang!

I'm linking to Camera Critters and Pet Pride. Click on the names to see more lovely photographs across the world.

The Sixth Family Birthday of the Year

Today my only son’s only daughter celebrates her tenth birthday.

Eve is dark-haired, dark-eyed, a dainty, neatly-made little girl with an enchanting smile and a great deal of charm. She wears her heart on her sleeve and could be described as ‘sunshine and showers’ – she’s quick to tears but just as quickly coaxed out of them. She also has a very strong streak of determination that some might call stubbornness, particularly Nina, her mother, with whom she has some vigorous ‘discussions’.

Eve is a self-confessed ‘girly girl’ but is not as fond of pink as she used to be. I think purple is her favourite colour now. She enjoys the traditional female pursuits of dressing up and – very occasionally – wearing nail polish. When she has the chance she likes to apply make-up to any willing adult and does so quite skilfully. She is the youngest of our three granddaughters and it is good for her to spend time with her teenage cousins who enjoy gently indulging her. As the only girl in her own family she sometimes finds it hard to make her voice heard above her two brothers’ robust remarks.

Eve has loved reading from an early age and takes every opportunity to open a book and lose herself in it. Consequently, her vocabulary is extremely good. She belongs to the gardening club at her school and impressed Barry the last time she was in our garden with her knowledge of the plants. She is also creative like her younger brother, Louis, and spends much time drawing and making things.

When I go to Eve’s house to sit with her and her brothers while their parents are out, she and Elliot are most solicitous, offering refreshments at regular intervals. She is a lovely, sweet-natured child but becoming more serious as she grows older. She, and her brothers, are a credit to Nina and Gareth, and a joy to us all.

The fifth family birthday of the year.

Louis at the helm, aged 3

Yesterday marked the fifth family birthday of the year.

Eight years ago I hastened to Nina and Gareth’s home in Twickenham to keep company with Elliot and Eve while their parents dealt with pressing matters in hand.  Not many hours later Louis Oliver was born, a fine, strong son, with dark hair and huge dark eyes.

He is a sturdy, healthy little boy with a surprisingly deep voice and a huge desire to be as wise and knowledgeable as his elder brother who is four years older than him and a significant role model. He is two years younger than Eve but taller and broader than her and sometimes irritated by her ‘big sister’ attitude to him. It was very amusing when they were younger to listen to them chattering. They both talked at the same time and neither listened to the other. Now they have proper conversations – usually!

Louis aged 7

Though he is very ‘boyish’ he is also a sensitive soul, quite a dreamer, spending hours drawing and colouring intricate pictures and explaining the details. He enjoys jigsaws and construction toys and follows complex diagrams with ease – he’s far more capable than I am! Another of his hobbies is growing crystals and he is becoming rather well-informed. It’s easy to forget sometimes that he’s still quite young because he tries so hard to keep up with Elliot.

When he comes to our house he loves to play with the animals. He likes the dogs and enjoys going out for walks with them, but he really loves Winston and makes a great fuss of him.

Like his father and his grandfather, Louis needs to be fed at regular intervals or he can become quite irritable! Most of the time, however, he is a charming little boy with a most infectious giggle and beautiful brown flirtatious eyes with the longest lashes – why do boys always have such gorgeous eyelashes? He often looks very serious - he has an absorbing inner life - but he has a wonderful sense of the ridiculous!

A busy weekend

Frodo, my Velcro boy, detached from me

On Saturday evening I drove to Chalfont St Giles to sit with my three younger grandchildren while their parents went out and Barry stayed at home to dog-sit.

Frodo and Jenna keep vigil

Frodo, Jenna and Gus took up position at the top of the stairs, there to remain until my return. When I phoned Barry to let him know I'd arrived safely he was unable to reach the phone immediately and consequently Frodo started howling and was soon accompanied by Gus. Frodo has a fine tenor voice and Gus sings baritone so they make a rather pleasing duo. We've never heard Jenna howl but she contributed to the musical episode by barking sharp staccato notes. Buddy continued to sleep – he's heard it all before.
Elliot taught me how to use the remote controls for the television. He and his father are showing an alarming resemblance to Barry in respect of all things technological. Callum, our oldest grandson, seems cast in the same mould, too. The more complex an arrangement may be the happier they all are. Anyway, Elliot guided me through the process, which, I grant, is simple enough once you know how.

As it was the weekend the children were allowed to stay up later. We decided we would watch a film together but gone are the days of a pleasant cartoon or a children's adventure story. Eve was outvoted by her brothers and we watched '2012'. Having established that they were allowed to watch it and it wouldn't give seven-year-old Louis nightmares we settled down to what seemed a very long film. The special effects were tremendous but the story line had a few gaping holes in it as far as credulity was concerned. After an hour or so Eve went off to bed with a book and we watched as 'the world as we know it' erupted and collapsed. Finally a huge tsunami engulfed the earth, almost submerging Mount Everest, and the arks that had been constructed broke free of their anchors and sailed upon the waters that covered the earth and every living thing just as it was reported in Genesis all those centuries ago. Ultimately, it was a new slant on Noah's Ark and the end would have been a good beginning for a film, I thought. Perhaps there will be a sequel – 2013 and all that.

Gareth and Nina arrived home after a good evening out with friends and soon afterwards I set off for home. I left their house at 12:30 on a journey that would normally take 35 to 40 minutes at that time of night. However, I had unplugged the Tom Tom on arrival, thinking it might drain the car battery, and forgot to plug it in again so after a while it stopped speaking to me by which time I had taken a wrong turning. Hastily, I plugged it in again and set it to find a route home. 'Planning a route' took forever but eventually the woman spoke. She sounded rather cross, I thought, as she barked, 'No route planned.' Now I was on my own, going in the wrong direction, towards Central London, rather than west towards home. I drove through some interesting places, constantly surprised by the amount of traffic on the roads, and eventually I picked up some road signs to take me to the M3. Unfortunately, I missed a vital turning and continued my journey through the outer suburbs of London until I reached Sheen and then I relaxed. I knew that once I reached Twickenham I would be on the right road. I reached home at around 2:45. There's no chance of getting into our house unnoticed and a great cacophony greeted me as dogs rushed downstairs to jump all over me and then look expectantly for food. Dogs – they're so obvious!

The next morning we rose bright and early – well, early anyway – to continue preparations for our two younger daughters who were coming for lunch. Barry took the three younger dogs out for a walk to get the tickle out of their toes and I stayed at home to finish off. Susannah and Nick arrived first and gave us wonderful homemade green tomato chutney that Nick had made and a particularly toothsome and stinky cheese they'd bought in a cheese shop in Whitstable the day before. 

Nick's green tomato chutney, not quite as full as when it arrived!

Not the remains of the day, but the remains of the cheese!

Then Bethan and her friend arrived and gave us a beautiful bouquet and a fine bottle of wine from their holiday in Sardinia.

The bouquet was full of late summer blooms - absolutely gorgeous!

The wine remained unopened - a treat for another time.

Lunch was late, of course, but the food was a secondary consideration to the stimulating and enjoyable company of our guests. We laughed a lot and that is always so good for the soul. The dogs were rather put out that they were not allowed to join us. Jenna stayed downstairs, though not in the dining room, but the boys were shut out of both the sitting room and the dining room and protested vociferously until they realised shouting would not gain them access. Winston, on the other hand, was welcomed and fussed over by everyone, which he thoroughly appreciated.

Everyone left in the late afternoon and the house suddenly seemed empty. The dogs were exhausted by the change in routine and slept soundly. Barry fell asleep in his chair and I went to bed about 8:30 and read for a while and then couldn't sleep. Scenes from '2012' mixed bizarrely with remembered comments and expressions and conversation from lunch. It was a most pleasurable weekend on many levels and today seems pleasantly relaxed in our unusually tidy home!

Magpie Tales #30 The Apple

Willow at Magpie Tales hosts this meme. Click here to read more tales.

She had been told not to eat the apple but it lay in the bowl, looking at her, tempting her. It was her favourite fruit and the favourite of her favourite fruit – sweet, juicy, crisp. Her mouth watered as she imagined, no, remembered the taste and the texture. 
Why should she not eat it? She hadn't been told why, simply that she mustn't. She picked it up and held it close to her nose, savouring the scent. She rolled it around in her hands, marvelling at the gradations of colour, the subtle patterning, the smoothness of the skin that held such delight in its firm grasp. Tantalising!

Tentatively, she licked the surface of the fruit. There! No harm had come to her from that. Possibly she had misheard – perhaps she had been advised not to eat it, not ordered. There was only one apple in the bowl. Maybe someone else wanted to make sure it would be theirs. Greedy! Unkind!

The longer she caressed the apple the better she was able to convince herself that the order which was advice was really merely a suggestion. Finally, in her mind, no words were spoken - just a gesture had been made, a little smile and a shake of the head, almost as if to say, 'You do love apples, don't you?'

She sighed happily and took a bite from the apple. At once she screamed in pain. Her mother rushed into the room.

'Eve', she cried, 'I told you not to eat that apple. Now you've broken that bad tooth and the dentist will have difficulty extracting it.'

Eve sobbed, her tooth exposed and raw, just like the rapidly browning flesh of her favourite fruit.

Face of the Week #14 Eve at the helm

Eve is our youngest granddaughter. Here she is taking the helm a couple of years ago.

Thank you to Sistertex from 'Spacial Peepol' who organises and hosts this lovely meme. Click here if you would like to see more entries - and maybe join in!

Camera Critters #105, Pet Pride - Ready for a swim

Jenna enjoys swimming. Here she is dressed and ready for a dip in our pool. Youngest and oldest granddaughters have helped her to dress in go-faster swimming kit and goggles and are waiting to accompany her. Nothing will persuade Buddy Liver Spots into the water unless it's at the seaside so he is looking on and relaxing.
Thank you to the organisers and hosts of Camera Critters and Pet Pride. To see more fascinating critters and pets please click on the titles.

Easter 2010

The Easter Bunny visited our house yesterday, leaving large bunnies for the children and smaller ones for the adults. They were waiting on the dining room table when we sat down to a late lunch. Later, in danger from prowling dogs, some of the smaller ones that had survived human jaws migrated to one of the book shelves, seeking education, boning up on  History.

Bethan and Rob joined us and it was good to have half our children and grandchildren at home to share a meal. Gillian and Paul are staying for a few days. Gareth and Nina had made other plans and Susannah is on a shoot in Bogota. She gaily told me she had sorted out her kidnap and ransom insurance so was fully covered!The Easter tree was also in the dining room. On it there is a rabbit that looks more like a hare, lots of painted eggs and some pig pegs. I'm not sure what the connection is between pigs and Easter but we ate roast pork and chicken, so there was a connection there for us, yesterday at least.

We didn't have any Easter eggs but we did have chocolates. Thornton's chocolates are very more-ish.

Not many left . . . but there were nine of us sampling them and only one layer!

Elliot, Eve and Louis gave us some handmade chocolates.

They're too pretty to eat, aren't they? I love the little bee!

I recollected the Easter eggs my parents used to sell in our shop in Kent. There was the usual Easter selection that can still be seen today, the chocolate moulds being covered and filled in different liveries through the decades to reflect 'popular' culture. My parents also offered for sale elaborately decorated chocolate eggs, varying in size from golf to rugby ball, sometimes even larger. They bore delicate sugar and marzipan flowers and dainty ribbons in Spring colours of yellow and purple and green. My favourites, which I have never seen since I grew up and left home, were finely spun sugar eggs with a small window into the hollow interior in which would be set a pretty scene from Nature. They came in different sizes but each one fascinated me and I never tired of gazing through the tiny apertures at the magical, fairy-tale scenes before me. I wonder what memories my children and their children will retain from childhood? Easter egg hunts were tricky to organise with dogs always in the picture but we did manage one or two. If the only thing they remember is laughing with extended family over a meal then that will be a happy recollection and chocolate bunnies will be the hook on which to hang the memory and place it in their history.

SkyWatch Friday Season 4 Episode 38 - from the car

Last Saturday Elliot, Eve and Louis came to spend the night at our house as Nina and Gareth were going out. I volunteered to pick them up - they live about 45 minutes away from us on a good day. (If the traffic is bad it can take more than twice as long to reach their house.)
I try to remember to take my Canon Ixus with me whenever I go out and so suggested the children might like to take some photographs as we drove along. It was about 5:30 and the sky was quite dramatic - I think the children's shots capture that.
The first one was taken by Elliot.

Eve took the second one.

Louis took the last two.

We had a most enjoyable evening, watching 'Robots' and then 'Up' and went to bed far too late!
We decided that Foxy is a dead ringer for the yellow dog in 'Up'(whose name I can't remember) and have been giggling about it ever since.
Our thanks go to the hardworking SkyWatch team for their sterling efforts in hosting this meme. Click here to see wonderful skies from around our beautiful world.