Brave New World

We are entering a new age of Team Anonimum. Not only do we now have a good guess at what baby no 3 is, having had a good nappy shot on the scan, we also have a 'working title' for it-which is streaks ahead of its siblings at a similar stage and amazingly organised for us. The baby seems well but the hospital seem to have negleted to offer and notation on it, so we are yet to discover if it has  broard shoulders, over sized limbs, or perhaps more importantly for the main event, a mamouth head.

Another exciting development is the final plumbing in of the dishwasher. Having survived 5 years of marriage and 2 children without it, I wondered if all the hype would be worth it. Oh doubting Thomas. After a very enjoyable day of visiting friends and toddler fun, the world was stacked high with dirty tippee cups,bowls of snacks, greasy cuttlery etc. Did I wash any of it...did I heck. I am converted. Dishwasher = saviour of the early evening. Now what to do with all this free time. So far have been scouring the garden/house for other bits to fill my magic machine. Then I realise it's Saturday night.

Two boys, or not two boys, that is the question

Tomorrow we are going for our 20 week scan. I am a little apprehensive. We have to take Laurie and Mol due to a lack of babysitters. 2 kids + 2 hrs in the car + rather fractious over tired parents = a whole day of fun. I don't think we're going to find out what it is, but we will have to wait until we're there. I don't mind. Although, I said that with Mol, didn't find out and then spent the next 20 weeks neurotically scanning the web for old wives tests. All of which said girl, bar one, which hedged its bets.

Unlike poor Hamlet, life is pretty good here. I see his 'outragous fortune' and only offer in comparison the trials of pushing a semi naked boy (after a 'tree wee' incident)on a bike whilst balancing a scooter and a toddler on my shoulders (midwife would not have been happy): Which is more rather awkward/uncomfortable than tragic. However, 'to sleep perchance to dream, theres the rub'...indeed my friend, if only! I have just entered the less known 'cant sleep,need to pee,can't get comfortable trimester'. Something not helped by Mol having a melt down, Bitey Cat trying to chase Nice but Dim around the bed, and Mr A having night terrors. Yawn, better luck tonight.

The uninvited guest

Unlike some folks, I like an uninvited guest. It says people are comfortable enough to drop in on you and head home again if the timing is not good. At just under my alloted year at the cottage and we have started recieving our first uninvited guests.The only downside it that with a number of large downstairs windows, one must make sure that pyjamas and other 'homely' clothes are decent at all times. Naked Tuesdays is clearly best kept for city living. My fasle assumption that I would be safe upstairs gathering clothing slowly between brushing toddlers teeth,changing nappies,packing lunches etc was further thwarted by the sporadic visits from the window clearner. He seems to have adopted a stealth approach  to ladder work which must surley have its downsides as well as benifits for the man.

Our second, less popular, Uninvited Guest is 'Bitey Cat'. Bitey Cat is a bully who had taken to chasing our nice but dim moggy about the garden. It seems that my water pistoling and throwing of pots(the light plastic ones) and pegs has been a lame attempt to frighten it off. All too frequently we have heard hissing and spitting downstairs in the night to find a stand off taking place. Moreover, Bitey Cat appears so at home, he has made a bed in Mr A's Tramp Coat, where he sleeps every night and during rainy spells by the back door. On further investigation it appears Bitey was owned by the lady at the top of the road and then passed onto our neighbours after the one owner flattened the other's original pet. In this case I can't help feeling a bit sorry for Bitey. Mayhaps I should see him more as an LAC (looked after cat) and consider his needs-no wonder he has affection and freidnship issues if his life has been handed from home to home. Still, I'm not sure I have the patience or skill to be an effective foster mother to a delinquent feline. Maybe I should invest in that super soaker after all......

spring springing........... finally

Bloomn' Loverly

A typical bank holiday weekend in the UK. 6am and its chucking it down. Still, think I, its good for the garden. I am immediatly reminded of a moment a few days back whilst in the green house when upon The Archers ending and Gardeners World being announced...I thought to myself, my how useful, that sounds interesting. I am infact 73.

Aside from prematurly aging 40 years, the last few weeks have been treating us very well. The garden looks great, although there is somthing of the forest about my peas, which still refuse to climb and simply lollop along the grass, despite my continued coaxing.The rhubard is pretty spritley and nearly pickable and I picked one leek-for no other reason than it was a decentish size and they have now been in since october and are officially the most boring vegatable to grow...ever. The sticky 'ornamental cherry' is making its best case for me not to chop it down and burn it come summer. I maintain if the thing only looks pretty for two weeks then looks like a large witches broom the rest of the time, its got to go.

Baby number 3 is making its presence felt in that I am very tired, although thankfully the sickness has now passed. Laurie came full of concern to see me lying on the sofa, 'Mummy, you look tired, would you like a spanner?'. I'm not entirely sure what I would have done with a spanner at that point but it was a caring thought. Mol has no grasp of the situation and if questioned simply points to her tummy and says baby. Although she did come inform the garden claiming she had been playing with her friend Hannah. She has no such friend but it was top of my baby names list. Spooky.