The Sartorialist

There comes a time in a young man’s life when his thoughts must turn to his apparel. There is no certain age for this and indeed there are some young men who never quite get the hang of what is cool and what is not.

Not so the Smallest Baby Boy who pitched up on Saturday looking every inch the cool dude…

In fact he was a dude so cool that the sunglasses stayed on in one way or another all day

During lunch

And races

And making daisy chains with Pops

Turning Madam into the Spring Princess

He was loath to remove them for any reason at all. I feel a sartorial boy coming on in the future.

In other news EVERYTHING has finally begun to emerge in the greenhouse and to date there are beans both runner and broad, tomatoes of two different varieties, spinach, broccoli, garlic, chillies, basil, courgettes and of course the obligatory sunflowers. I’m wondering if the veg patch is going to be big enough for it all as there are already potatoes, herbs, rhubarb, red currants and artichokes on the go……watch this greenfingered space! Elsewhere there is finally colour apart from the Primroses and Daffs

These are my Mother’s favourites and were grown from some bulbs that she gave me a couple of Christmases ago

They have withstood all the awful cold weather and are enjoying a bit of sunshine at last and are so delicate and perfect. It makes your heart glad to see that the Winter is finally behind us and we can look forward to sunnier days and warmth on our faces.

Apart from all of that, I have nothing more to impart Dear Reader except to show you the following. Madam and her bunny cakes. Well it was Easter after all…..

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New Year – new term

Heavens to Betsy Dear Reader it’s been ages. I know that I bang on about the time flying by – but fly by it does. There don’t seem to be enough minutes or hours to string together to make any inroads into anything.

Since my last small amount of effort here we’ve had New Year’s Eve (a splendid night as always at the Folly amongst friends and family). A wonderful post Christmas Christmas dinner cooked by our lovely Norwegian friends which was made doubly better by the fact that I had no hand in it whatsoever (bear in mind that there has been NO Christmas dinner that I have not had a least a hand in for the last 25 years…) – they had gone to an enormous amount of effort and jolly good it was too with an eclectic guest list of Norwegians x 2, Paddys x 2, Spaniards x 1 and 2 Brits. We also had New Year’s Day with Mr and Mrs Folly including a spot of footie, a rather lovely Coq au Riesling and a good old amount of chat. And so I prepared for work on the 2nd until disaster struck.

I should tell you that whilst removing Amanda the turkey (if you don’t know the turkey rule – we always name it after someone who we don’t like / has done us down over the previous year and take great pleasure in roasting him / her) I managed to completely knacker my back. It could have had something to do with the fact that she weighed 18lbs and was flippin’ heavy or it could have just been the angle of liftage – whatever it was it bloody hurt (and still does). So having had the back from hell since Christmas day, I awoke on the 2nd with the most filthy of colds and absolutely no voice (much to the delight of the rest of the household). It felt as though I’d been run over at the very least and I had my first sick day EVER at this job!

I still sound like a particularly dodgy 0898 number (am rethinking career as we speak) but have been to work (cue much hilarity and ‘did someone say something’ jolly japes…)

So here we are at the beginning of the first week proper back at work. The Child has been redeposited at university so the nest is empty once more, the decorations are gone and the holiday season is behind us again until next time. Despite my ‘no New Year resolution’ mantra, the one thing I have wanted to do is lose some (considerable) weight so with that in mind I have had no alcohol since New Year’s Day (collective gasp from the crowd) and have been counting the calories. Actually, what with the back and the cold it’s not been too difficult but time will tell….

I leave you therefore with two small memories of Christmas – and random ones at that. The first is the Eldest Baby Girl playing Mary at the school nativity. She was very good (apart from bursting into tears at the end because ‘THAT angel touched my cradle Nanny and I TOLD her not to’). I did explain that angels can be a bit unreasonable that way sometimes!  I also took her to the panto which she absolutely loved – getting her into the acting groove at an early age – well someone has to carry on the dynasty!!

The second is of Madam Rainbow. We’ve had her now for quite a while and she really is part of the family. She is the grumpiest most miserable baggage at times but when it comes to the arms of a man she is a real softy (bit like myself really). Silly old thing that she is.

And there I shall leave you. Work proper beckons tomorrow and there are more Excel spreadsheets to be created than you can shake a stick at. I shall keep you posted on my detox efforts (although I’m sure you’re not REMOTELY interested) and go firmly into 2013 feeling not physically brilliant but definitely mentally better than last year. Bring it on!

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Out of the mouths of babes. Part 4

So there we were in the garden, the small people and I, planting bulbs.

The Eldest Baby Girl can be just the teeniest(!) bit argumentative and I am not entirely sure where some of the bulbs have been planted and if they are in the ground the right way up…. But we persevered and eventually we were done.

The following conversation took place between the EBG and TG.

TG: “So what have you been planting then?”

EBG: “Bulbs Pops.”

TG: “Oh, they’ll look nice when they come up in the Spring won’t they?”

EBG: “Nanny says they’ll look really pretty.”

TG: “So what sort of bulbs are they?”

EBG: *Summoning her most withering look*  “Lightbulbs of course Pops. You ARE silly”.

Hmmmmm. We shall watch with interest in the Spring

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Once more unto the beach Dear Reader

And so it dawned a beautiful day on Saturday – a tad chilly round the edges but bright and sunshiney. TG and I took the small people to the beach at Ryde where the tide was miles out, there were plenty of shells for collecting and there were footballs to be kicked. I had stupidly not brought my camera so the below are from TG’s phone.

I find, as I get older, that it’s the little things in life that mean the most and Saturday morning was just perfect. We had such a wonderful time with the littlies playing ‘football’, singing silly songs and dancing in the sand and watching the Smallest Baby Boy discovering that if your hands are wet that sand does indeed stick to them…

The Now Biggest Baby Girl kept us entertained with how ‘mingos manage not to fall over when they stand on one leg (cue unsuccessful demonstration by her) and how ‘nanilla is her very favourite ice cream (and do they sell them in the cafe up the road Nanny…)!

We peered into pools left behind by the man digging for worms (which was pronounced to be ‘scusting Nanny), watched a very unstable looking mini hovercraft whizz round the beach and some rather unsuccessful kite flying. It was just brilliant and I am so glad that we get to spend so much time with these small folks before things like the beach and kicking a ball become boring and have been swapped for computer games. We repaired for a spot of lunch to the cafe (and a ‘nanilla ice cream) and TG and I agreed that it was the nicest Saturday morning we’d had in ages.

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The arrival of Phoenix

Well now Dear Reader I feel at least 106. The third grandchild has put in an appearance and very lovely (if a touch Winston Churchillish) she is too!

Proud Nanny

Proud Uncle

Proud Pops

The Other Child is forbidden from having any more – we can’t squish anybody else into the car or house!!

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On friends, family and fun in the sun

Let me just begin Dear Reader with a cautionary tale. Should you find yourself ever ‘invited’ to assist with the erection of a plastic greenhouse in the boiling heat, with the assurance that it ‘will only take 10 minutes’, resist at all costs! It was so I found myself at the home of my friend Ms M on Sunday morning with the aforesaid assurances, losing pounds in sweat (which is perhaps no bad thing) as we toiled and struggled to put the bloody thing up. The offending article came with bugger all instructions, a billion parts and was the equivalent of the Krypton Factor of greenhouses. The air was beyond blue… Eventually, an hour and a half later and several pounds lighter I emerged from my plastic sauna and we repaired for a spot of lunch to look out across the sea.

Fab

 

Saturday night was spent with girlfriends watching the Eurovision. Now, I am not half as sad a muppet as the ACL who studies the form of the competition with an interest that borders on unhealthy but I do quite enjoy the occasional car crash song – Albania comes to mind this year and I do chortle at Mr Norton’s remarks. We had a fab bbq and a Pavlova of truly epic proportions (sadly no pictures) and we sat in replete appreciation throughout.

Also on the most social weekend ever’s agenda was  dinner with the small people as TG has now gone and left us all for 6 months. They (and I am not being biased because they are my grandchildren – I would say really) are the best behaved children in the world and we had a lovely time eating too much, looking at boats and generally chit chatting. There were lots of hugs and some very wet kisses (from the baby boy – puhlease Dear Reader) and we repaired off to Mr and Mrs Folly’s for the remainder of the evening and what had been a really lovely weekend.

He is beyond cute!

Miss Poser!

 

Mutual admiration society?

So, I am faced with 6 months left to my own devices. In between work (and a new job therein), the ‘business’, rehearsals for Calendar Girls which kicked off last night, The Other Child’s baby due at the end of the Summer and The Child off to university, I don’t think I’ll be bored. I might be a bit lonely though, but it isn’t forever. I’m crossing off the days as we speak…

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Simple pleasures and small peeps

We took the small peeps out on Saturday as it wasn’t bucketing down with rain to Quarr Abbey up the road – which I am ashamed to say in the 10 years that I have lived here, I have never visited

It’s a fab place

And best of all it has

Piggies!!!

We fed them some bread (not sure how good that is for pigs) and I was far more over excited than the small people were

We then repaired for a spot of lunch – never easy with two wriggling small people on your lap

And then set off an a trek on which we discovered horses, buttercups and what happens when you run in sandals and fall in the mud…..(the SBG not me!)

There were secret doors

And horses

And some very determined Dandelion clock blowing (The small boy had noddled off in his pushchair long since!)

How many o’clock?

This might well have been TG’s last outing with us for many months as he is off to foreign shores till Christmas, so I was glad we’d gone and done something ‘proper’ and that the weather was kind to us. We didn’t do anything special but it’s amazing that a bunch of daisies and buttercups, a stroke of the horse and some stinky pigs can provide so much pleasure. Simple pleasures Dear Reader. Simple pleasures.

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Out of the mouths of babes – Part 3

The preamble: The Other Child is pregnant and expecting her baby in late August. The Smallest Baby Girl is three and fascinated. The conversation goes thus:

SBG: (looking at herself in the mirror) “Look at my big tummy Mummy”

TOC: “Yes, it’s full of dinner”

SBG: “I think it’s full with baby

TOC: “No, I think it’s dinner”.

*Long pause*

SBG: “So how do babies get into your tummy then?”

TOC: “We’ve talked about this. Mummies and Daddies have a special cuddle and the baby gets in there”.

SBG: “Like a big squeeze?”

TOC: “Yes that’s right”

*Another long pause*

SBG: “So it’s like magic then?”

TOC: (Relieved at having got away with such an easy explanation) “Yes, that’s right its magic”

SBG: (With much consideration) “So Daddy used his magic wand to make a spell with …..”

Cue much choking hilarity from The Other Child and the rest of us when she related it. Can we please keep the Smallest Baby Girl at this age forever?

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Out of the mouths of babes. Part 2

So there we were Dear Reader. Me, The SBG and her smaller brother planting seeds in the greenhouse on Saturday. Having had a steward’s enquiry as to why some seeds are smaller / bigger than others (harder to explain to a 3 year old than you might think) and having removed a very well sucked stone from the small boy’s mouth we got down to the nitty gritty of planting. In the midst of the compost, pots and me removing all sharp objects from reach of small people, the following conversation took place:

SBG: (holding up a rather old runner bean seed) “I don’t think this is a very good seed Nanny”

Me: “No it’s a bit wrinkly isn’t it? Maybe we should throw that one away.”

*Long pause*

SBG: (Looking at me in a considered fashion) “YOU’RE a bit wrinkly aren’t you Nanny?”

Me: (Noncommittally) “Er, well, a bit I suppose”.

*Another long pause*

SBG: “Well you are VERY old Nanny”.

 

Note to self: do not in future get into ANY conversations with small children regarding age, wrinkles or any other subject that can be turned into a conversation about age or wrinkles.

**For the record I am 45. That is NOT old. And I’m not sure that crow’s feet really count as wrinkles!

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Learning to drive…

Learning to drive is one of those things – a bit complicated, fraught with disaster and requires much concentration.

Especially when you’re one.

Reversing can be problematic

Look out ahead or I may run over your toes…

See Nanny – it’s a doddle really. Can’t believe you doubted my abilities (you can’t see the hovering Pops who was completely paranoid about him falling off and banging his head)

This is what a one year old *smug face* looks like.

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