Why Rainy Days (and Mondays) don't always get me down

I do so love the Carpenters. Just had to get that in.

Good things about rainy days:
1. Good excuse to stay in and 'indoor' activities like cake making and decorating
2. Puddles - George's no.1 favourite past time
3. Freshly washed wild fruit
4. "Rainbrellas" (George's words are often infinitley better than those in the English dictionary.)
5. Injecting a bit of sunshine with a carribean fish stew. George adores his prawns.
6. I'm an allotment owner. Say no more.

Cake making with an extra special friend

 

Off to feed the ducks with a bag of mouldy bread

Splish

Splosh



Rainbrella



George likes to measure the depth of puddles (honestly)



Off the beaten track

Delicious blackberries

Brings back childhood memories of collecting elderflowers for wine

Market Day

I discovered our local market when on maternity leave with George. Every Thursday we'd trundle down and fill our bags with the latest seasonal veg. It was one of the things that I missed the most when I went back to work.  Even on a soggy August day, it brightens my day and the streets of Wendover.  I love the smell and the look of all the colourful seasonal (mostly) local veg. 

Today I bought a huge bag of apples for a few pence. An hour later a yummy apple cake was baking on the oven, much to hubby's delight.

If only my cauliflowers looked like that

Mine's a cuppa

My consumption of herbal teas is always a source of amusement to some of my friends.  I stopped drinking coffee when gettng pregnant with George and haven't really drunk it since. I do love it but it doesn't love me, I also have an addictive personality so best stay clear.

For the last umpteen months I've been having acupuncture, drinking chinese herbs, doing yoga, just about to start pilates and have reflexology and hypnotherapy.  Maybe it is all too much, when it is written down like that it seems like so much, but it makes me feel like I'm doing something positive. I am sure I would worry more if I did nothing.  Everyone says just to put it all out of my mind. Oh, if only.

So every night, bar one of the week, I brew up my sticks and berries and , strain them off and drink them down.  I actually like them. It feels like I'm doing something positive, even if it isn't working right now. Maybe some day it will. Hopefully before my bank account runs dry. I might be a sucker but I guess that is my addictive personality again.  This latest batch tastes quite liquoricey and almost, dare I say, chocolately.

Sweeeeeeetcorn

I can remember as a child when we lived in suffolk, so pre 5 years old, absolutley loving the taste of freshly picked sweetcorn that my dad grew in the garden. That and large tubs of black cherry yoghurt spooned into bowls. 2 major treats in our house. Funny what you remember.

I doubt I have had such freshly picked sweetcorn since - until today.  Definitley a taste that cannot be bought in any shop. Sweet, tender, juicy and always at the top of George's favourite veg list.

Out of the ground and into the pan

The last of the purple sprouting brocolli was also enjoyed today

The other juicy and tender item at our dinner table

Paint

Now the painting has almost stopped on the new bathrooms (must take some pics) we had a morning of painting this week to make pictures for George's cousin Benj who has had a day in hospital this week.  I love the look of concentration.

Simple pleasures

One of my favourite allotment meals.  We harvested so much stuff today - I am gonna be so sad when we can't eat from ground to plate in a couple of hours anymore.

Potty Training

Day 5 and I am amazed at our success.  Too few accidents to mention and a very proud mummy and daddy. The new frog potty was the turning point. And of course the lovely star chart, which was part of my Thursday therapy, and too many chocolate bribes etc...

The hardest thing is keeping away from that gorgeous squidgey bottom. I really want to eat it.

Back from the Brink

So it was a tough week. Tougher than I thought it would be. But I survived.  How I would have loved to have downed a couple of bottles of good red wine.  Somehow I didn't, and my main coping tactic seemed to be baking.  Over the last few days I made a mountain of cookies, spinach & nutmeg soup, courgette and pea soup, casseroles,  rhubarb tart, tray baked salmon with summer allotment veg, beefburgers, chicken tikka and bbq shebang.  Sadly, I didn't quite make it to taking piccies :-(

We had our neighbour round on Saturday night for dinner as his wife is in hospital for a cancer operation.  He thought we were doing him a big favour giving him some food and company but in reality he gave us something to focus on and wonderful company.   It is amazing how unnasuming and fascinating people right under your nose can be. And it is an all too common mistake in life to forsee people too completely before getting to know them past the initial "hellos".

We had a lovely bbq with the cousins today, usual bonkers behaviour, which George of course loved.

My Due Date

Today my baby son Harry should be born.  How every bone in my body aches for him.  How I wish that we were lying together in a bed staring in wonder and amazement at each other, feeling a love so intense and full and complete that nothing on this earth could ever compare.  I miss him and what shoud have been every single second of my life.  I held your beautiful big brother's hand last night as he slept and cried for him too. He would be the best big brother in the world. He is so kind, so much fun and so protective.  Thank god I have him. But I oh so wish that you had him too.

Most days I smile, remember how lucky I am and try to count every blessing I have. But today I am sad. I miss you more than anything on this earth and I want to scream at everyone I meet.

I should be having MY baby today. I shouldn't be HERE. I should be with MY baby. Loving you, cuddling and caressing you.

Watching your head bob up and down searching for my breast, seeing those beautiful eyes taking in their first glimpses of life. Smelling that incredible overwhelming smell of you. So full of excitement at every moment that I never want a day to end.

But all I have of you is the memory of your perfect but lifeless body.  Here but not here. Your tiny fingers, your tiny bottom and a million questions that I will never have an answer to.  What colour would your hair have been? Would you look like your brother? Would you sleep well? Would you cry much? What food would you like? Would you be cheeky like your brother? Why why why why why did you have to leave me.  All I ever wanted was to be your mummy.

I will always love you.

xxx

It takes a long time to grow an old friend

We have been friends, best friends, for about 26 years. Oh my god I feel old. Oh my god I am lucky. 

Some of my best childhood memories are our times together; camping out, midnight feasts, making up and acting out plays, spending hours learning the words to pop songs in her bedroom.  Other friends came and went but there was always something between us that was somehow unbreakable. I remember at school being inspired by the way she wrote poetry, how strongly she could love, and her relaxed approach to life.  As well as how fast she could run.  I can remember now one school sports day, probably about aged 12, doing a cross country run, she should have won by a mile but instead ran the whole way with me so that we would cross the line together, that's the type of person she is.

Then all the ups and downs of teenage years. We did it all together. The loves, heartbreaks, tears,  joys, ridiculously crazy drunken days, nights and sunshine holidays.  We had hours and hours of laughter, laughing so hard we could only cry and would forget why we were laughing in the first place. We just had that effect on each other.  And as she had her first child nearly 10 years ago I remember hoping when it be my turn that I could have half the love and patience that she had.  We are so different but so similar in our hearts.  Perhaps that's why we work.

She is pure, selfless, modest and incredibly talented.  And she is there for me. Even when I don't answer the phone because some days I just can't talk about what I'm going through.  She never gives up. She always calls again, and again.  A blessing to be counted.  I know we will grow old together and I can't wait to watch our children who are now playing together.  I hope they are as lucky as me.

  

Happy Anniversary!

6 years ago today I was getting ready for what I knew would be the best day of my life to that point.

Just having watched my wedding dvd with hubby, I can remember those feelings of pure unobliterated love, joy and gratitude for my husband, family, friends and totally perfect day.  I remember getting ready with my gorgeous sisters and feeling amazingly calm (following a 2 1/2 year engagement and lots and lots of planning!).

There is a part on the DVD at the end of our first dance where I have tears in my eyes and am just saying "thank you" over and over and over. I honestly never dreamt that I could be such a lucky girl at that moment. I never wanted that moment to end. I can still close my eyes now and feel myself there, in that moment, and cry my eyes out with that joy, nostalgia and wonder. It really was a spectacular, fun, romantic and perfect day where I married my perfect man. 

What memories are made of

Just back from 5 days of camping in Devon.  Loved it. Sleeping under the stars, cooking on gas and playing on the beach. George was in his glory running around with his 'big' cousins, surfing, swimming, digging, rockpooling, eating and, (amazingly) sleeping.  How I loved waking in the morning to see those beautiful beady eyes peering back at me full of anticipation of the day ahead.  First words of the day were generally "where are Jude & Charlie".