Moth

We have a moth in our house.  This moth has been in our house since about June or July.  It was perched in the hallway, near the ceiling by the dining room door.  It wasn't moving.  We decided it was dead, and each of us kept meaning to remove it from its perch, but none of us got round to it,

About six to eight weeks ago, I was walking towards the front door when I noticed that the moth had moved.  It was no longer by the dining room door, it was above the window of the vestibule door.  I was amazed. I had been sure this moth was dead because it hadn't moved an inch in months, and now there it was, not moving, but in a different place.

Last week, we had the downstairs carpets cleaned.  This seemed to unnerve the moth, which by this time we were calling our pet moth.  He moved from above the window to the side of the window.  We think it might have been because of the steam rising from the machine the men were using.  I thought it might finally decide to leave us.

A few days ago it had gone from the side of the window, and I couldn't see it anywhere.  Had it finally left us?  No, it had moved to the ceiling near the front door.  I have no idea if this is normal moth behaviour, but we're quite enjoying moth watch in our house.

Linus

As some of you may be aware by now, we have a dog.  We have, until a couple of years ago, always had cats, but due to living on a main road, and this being an unsafe place for them to wander freely, we decided that we would not have any more cats until we lived somewhere quieter.  It has taken use quite along time to make the decision to have a dog, because of the commitment required, but I think we're grown up enough now.

When we got Linus, we hadn't actually made the decision to get a dog at that point.  It was still an idea in the development stage, but then I had a conversation with a lady at work.  We talked about pets a lot, as we were both animal lovers.  She recently had to say goodbye to her dog of twelve years, due to illness, so I think puppies were on her mind.  She was telling me about a friend of hers who had puppies ready to go to good homes.  I saw a couple of photos of them, and they were just adorable.  A few texts and phone calls with Robert later, and I persuaded him to go and have a look at these puppies to see about getting one.  When he spoke to the lady on the phone, she told him that there were two puppies left, but that people were already coming that evening to look at them.  She said that if they didn't take them, then she would call him.  At this point we knew we were no longer in the running as no one could say no to those gorgeous little ones, so we started searching on line for other puppies.

We found some absolutely adorable ones on a web site called preloved.co.uk, and couldn't believe our luck when they were in Burnley, as this website covered the whole country.  We contacted the owners straight away, and this is where the story gets a little odd.  The man Robert spoke to sounded a bit vague, and said his wife was handling everything to do with the puppies and she would ring us back.  This didn't fill me with confidence, but we waited for a phone call.  I was surprised when the phone rang not too long after.

Robert asked if we could come and see the puppies that evening, as Katy was out, and we wanted to keep it quiet until we had definitely decided.  She said this was ok, but when we asked her for her address she couldn't give it to us.  Again, not filling me with confidence.  Robert then spoke to her husband who said that where he lived was a bit tricky to get to, so we made an arrangement to meet him in the car park of a Spar shop near his home, and then we were to follow him in his silver range rover, to where he lived.  Now, you hear stories about people meeting strangers from off the internet, but here we were, sitting in a car park, waiting for this completely unknown man to turn up, and we were just going to follow him.

We'd been there for about ten minutes when the range rover appeared and he indicated for us to follow.  We turned off the main road, onto a quiet street with a cul de sac at the end.  At this point, the man stopped and got out of his car. We parked and got out too, and he said that his house was down a steep dirt track, and it would be better if we got in his car to drive down to the house.  This was sounding dodgier and dodgier to me, but we dutifully got into his car.  He drove part way down the track and stopped to open a large swing gate.  As he got out, and Robert and I were alone in the car, I showed Robert something I'd found on the back seat next to me.  It was an empty bullet cartridge.  So now my mind is racing with all the possible ways that this could play out. But still, here we were, sitting in this total stranger's car, trusting him to take us to see his puppies.

Obviously nothing sinister did happen, as I'm here to tell the tale, and I have Linus.  It turned out that they were a couple who were building their own home on a plot of land down by a river, which is why they couldn't give us an address.  They had horses, and geese and dogs and chickens as well I think.  Very much into the country life as much as they could be so close to town, which is where the bullets came from, as the man and his teenage son would go hunting.  They were lovely, and we could easily have spent all night there just chatting away about everything under the sun.

Two days later we went back to pick up Linus, and he is an absolute fluffy bundle of joy.  So friendly with everyone and all other dogs he meets.  When we're out walking, sometimes we have to stop quite frequently as people just want to say hello and stroke him.  He's learning to sit and stay (not very good at staying yet), and he can shake hands, twirl and lie down.  He likes snuggling blankets, playing with footballs and chewing everything he's allowed to get his teeth into, and some things he's not allowed to.  I look forward to every weekend even more because I can't wait to take him out and let him explore new places.

Graduation Day

I couldn't be more proud of daughter number three a.k.a. Rebekah.  She has achieved a lot in her time at university.  She's found her love of literature and writing.  She got herself a decent partner to share her life with.  She gave me the most adorable grandson, and to top it all off she got herself a first class degree in English with Drama.

I wish I could take credit for instilling the virtues of hard work and never giving up into her, but I think this might be down to Adam and Charlie, and the way they helped her to focus and knuckle down when she needed to.

Graduation day was hot.  Charlie, bless his little cotton socks, was very well behaved.  He didn't come into the graduation ceremony itself.  He stayed outside with wonderful auntie Katy.  We had an official family photograph taken on the day, but I haven't seen it yet. Really looking forward to
that being ready.

We had good seats, near all the graduates.  The graduation was filmed, and before it began the cameras were scanning the audience, focussing in on individuals, who mostly got into the spirit of things and played up when their faces appeared on the big screens at the front of the hall.  Rebekah looked gorgeous, and had the biggest grin on her face as she walked across the stage to shake hands with the Vice Chancellor.

Walking back to her seat

I'm so proud of this girl and what she's achieved, and she's not stopping there.  Next on the agenda is an M.A., and once that's done, she'll be looking at a PhD.  What a girl.

Tradition

The new family

Weekend at Grandma's

As Bekah is in her third year at university, and as it is not too far off the end of the Academic year, I suggested that perhaps we could have Charlie for a weekend so that she could get some work done.  The weekend I suggested turned out to be the same weekend as their anniversary, so it was very convenient timing.  

This meant we got to have Charlie from Friday until Monday, with a little visit from his mummy and daddy on the Saturday night, as three nights away from him was more than Bekah could handle.  Now I have to admit that I was excited and nervous in equal parts.  As gorgeous and amazing as he is, I haven't looked after a baby for many years and was worried that I had lost my knack.

It was also good timing as I had just been paid and found myself buying baby equipment that could stay at grandma's house so that Bekah didn't have to bring everything but the kitchen sink every time they visit, although now I have to find somewhere to keep it all.

So Charlie arrived just after tea on Friday.  Robert had to go out to choir practice which meant he was all mine.  Well, mine and Katy's, but mostly mine.  He whinged a bit and then fell asleep until his late night feed.  He also got to meet his great aunt Sarah and is cousin Darcey.  I still can't remember how the second cousin/cousin once removed thing works (sorry Alex), so we'll just say that Darcey is is cousin.

Now here was the tricky bit.  Where to sleep him and who was going to be on night feed duty?  "We" decided that the best thing would be for him to sleep in his pram downstairs with Robert as I had to get up early for an appointment.  I trotted off to bed and left Grandbob to it.

My alarm went off at 7:15 and a few minutes later Grandbob came upstairs and fell into bed while announcing that he hadn't slept all night.  Now, I hadn't heard a thing so was a bit concerned at the terrible night Robert had had with Charlie.  It turns out that Charlie slept just fine, but Robert had forgotten what it was like to sleep next to a new baby, and be constantly listening to them breathe, and then checking that they are still actually breathing when they go really quiet.

Auntie Katy got to do her auntie duty while Robert slept and I went to my appointment.  I came back having stopped off to buy yet more stuff for Charlie, including a bath and a chair.  So after a bath and a bottle, and it being a lovely day, we decided to walk into town as Robert was still fast asleep.

I like my new chair

Charlie was just wonderful the whole time we were out.  Katy on the other hand has decided she needs some sort of sign or badge or writing on her hoodie proclaiming that she is not the mummy, when she's out with Charlie.  Several people assumed this to be the case, and one lady was asking her what she had and what she called him.

In pensive mood.  Either that, or planning on how to take over the world.

He came to church with us on Sunday and slept through the whole thing, which let's face it is probably the best thing to do at church.  One young married man wasn't happy with us however, as seeing Charlie made his wife a bit broody again.

So what have I learnt from this weekend?  I have learnt that Charlie is a very good baby whose routine is pretty much eat, play and smile and be gorgeous, then sleep after a little bit of grumpiness, then start the cycle all over again.  I have learnt that I haven't lost my knack, and that Robert is still better at going without sleep than I am.  Most of all I have learnt that being a grandma is a whole different ball game to being a mummy as you are so much more chilled out about the whole thing, and can put everything on hold while you just enjoy being with your grandchild.  It doesn't matter for a few days if the housework isn't done or if full family meals aren't cooked. Nothing is as important, for whatever time you have, as being with your grandchild.

The Next Chapter

I've thought about starting this blog post several times, but I'm not sure I know where to begin.  This last week has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life and it's hard to know how to put my thoughts and feelings into words.

last Monday on my way to work I was telling myself not to get too excited as there was still a week to go before Bekah's due date.  I started thinking about the things I had to do that day, and one of them was to make sure my boss was ok with me taking off if I got the call from Bekah while I was at work.

I had been doing a few jobs and got back to my desk; out of habit I checked my phone.  There were two missed calls from Bekah.  This was not normal behaviour so I rang her back straight away.  As soon as she spoke I could hear the pain in her voice and I knew this was it.  I left work ten minutes later; went home to pack a bag and headed down to Crewe.  I think it took me about an hour to stop shaking.

When I got there, the house was quiet and relaxed considering the circumstances.  Bekah was coping well and Adam was being very supportive.  They had planned a home birth with a pool, which was all set up and ready in the dining room.  The midwife returned around 5pm and decided that Bekah was far enough along to be monitored constantly from there on.

Things were progressing as normal, albeit slowly.  I wasn't really doing much as Adam was making sure Bekah had everything she needed, but she was glad I was there.  Around 4am in the morning it was becoming clear that Bekah needed to make a decision as to whether she should go into hospital and give up on the home birth as it seemed baby was far too comfortable and happy and wasn't keen to be coming out any time soon, so a little extra help might be needed.  She didn't know what to do as this meant turning the experience into everything she didn't want.  She looked at me and asked "what should I do?".  Anyone who is a mother will know that the responses you give at crucial moments like this are pretty darn important.  I just told her that she needed to do what was right for the baby and that if she stayed at home, she didn't have the options she would have in hospital.

We got to the hospital around 5am, and it was a bit of a shock to the system.  At home, it had been quiet (apart from the occasional scream) with subdued lighting and comfy armchairs.  The hospital was all bright lights and noise and without a comfy chair in sight.  I felt bad that I had advised Bekah to go there, even though I knew it was where she needed to be.

They tried every trick in the book to move things along for her but it was still slow going.  They kept saying that baby was happy and they would give it another hour.  Every time it was "give it another hour".  Bekah was getting exhausted but was coping brilliantly.  They were talking about epidurals and caesarians, but thanks to there being two other ladies that needed more urgent attention, and only one anaesthetist, this kept getting delayed.

Eventually just after 11am they told her that she was finally ready.  We all just burst into tears, including Adam, although I'm not sure he'd admit it.  I haven't asked Bekah exactly why she was crying but my tears were a mixture.  On the one hand this meant she was going to have a natural birth, but on the other hand this meant waiting another hour (they call it passive second stage) before she could start actively pushing.  I was glad things were ok, but concerned at how much longer Bekah could go on and how tired she was.  I wanted it all to end for her as soon as possible, but yet again we were being told another hour.  We got told so many times that baby was happy that it nearly became his middle name.

My beautiful little girl had to push for two and a half hours.  She was amazing.  So exhausted but still giving all she had for her baby.  At the start of this we weren't sure if I would still be there right at the end, or whether it would just be Bekah and Adam, but I got to see my grandson be born.  Ok, maybe not 'see'. I was more on the 'grab my hand and grip as hard as you can' end of things, but even so, I was there.  And, as with pretty much every mother I know about, the first thing Bekah said to him was "hello" as she held him close.

My first cuddle came when Bekah was having a shower.  I think this is the very first picture of him.

Bekah had to stay in hospital that night to be monitored, so eventually Adam and I left to go and get some sleep.  Something that Bekah desperately needed but was unlikely to get.

I spent the next day trying to make things normal for them at the house while waiting for them to get back from the hospital.  In the evening there were lots of visitors and cuddles all round.  Baby was being so good, as we were all making suggestions about what he should be called.

Once everyone was gone I said I would stay downstairs with still unnamed baby, while Bekah and Adam slept.  He wasn't keen on settling in his moses basket, so we just cuddled all night.  This was when he really became my grandson.  Babies smell so good don't they?  He was all mine for those hours.  I didn't have to share him with anyone.  I could watch him and rock him and kiss him as much as I wanted. Something I shall never forget, and I hope the feelings I experienced don't dim with time.

He finally got named on day three.  He is Charles Alfred Bentley, or Charlie, but also currently known as monkey boy Charlie or Charlie monkey and was introduced to the world with this photo..

I enjoyed my few days with the new family.  I got to know Adam much better, and was treated a bit like a VIP when I stayed at the Holiday Inn where Bekah worked.

He is one and a half hours drive away from me, and I'm finding it hard to accept that there is a little baby in my life that I'm not there to look after twenty four hours a day.  I'm not the mummy this time.  This is the next chapter.

My New Obsession

It's been far too long since I did a blog post.  Since my last one I've turned 50, for which I failed to get anywhere near to achieving my goal of being able to do the splits.  Oh well, never mind.  I've also found out I'm going to become a grandma, which is now only three weeks away.  I'm trying not to peak too early with my excitement, and keep it under control.  However, this upcoming event has been the catalyst for my new obsession.

As we haven't had much money this year, and I couldn't afford to buy things to spoil the baby, I decided I would make things instead. I used to knit all the time, but stopped quite a few years ago. This seemed like a good opportunity to start again.  I began looking at patterns for things like booties, and was finding that I was drawn to the crocheted ones rather than the knitted ones.  I never learnt to crochet, and had only really seen the granny square blankets that my mum had made for my girls, which I had never liked.  Now I was coming across all sorts of really cute hats and booties and toys to make and figured I would teach myself to crochet so that I could make some of them.

As usual with most things these days I googled "how to crochet", and discovered that there were hundreds of video tutorials on YouTube that showed you the very basics and even went through how to make all sorts of projects step by step.  I knew that getting the tension right was important with crochet, so the first thing I tried was just a simple square, to see how hard it was.  On the same day I then tried a flower and even a slouchy hat.

I also made a bag, which I haven't photographed, which I now keep some of my projects in.  Kirsty saw this bag when she was home one day and said that she wanted one.  This gave me the idea for my first proper project, and I made a bag for her birthday.

I think it looks small in the photograph, but it's actually about the size of a satchel.

Then I started making things for the baby.  Two blankets came first.  One for the cot (no photo) and one for the pram.

Then came hats for Katy and Kim, which I also failed to photograph.

I was working in the shop one Saturday while Robert was busy elsewhere, and Katy was telling me about the Christmas presents she was planning to get for her friends.  One of these friends was texting her at the time, and the conversation went something like this:-

Katy's friend:  Please tell me what you're getting me for Christmas.
Katy:  No
Katy's friend:  Is it a dragon?
Katy:  No
Katy's friend:  Is it a dead dragon?  Have you killed a dragon?
Katy:  No, it's not a dragon.  Why would I get you a dragon?
Katy's friend:  Make it happen.

This got me thinking, as I had seen patterns for toys, and I said I would make a dragon for her friend.  I had some leftover wool, and Katy ripped apart a couple of her old toys for the stuffing, and I made my first little animal.

I have learnt that this type of crochet is called amigurumi,  and is very popular.  They are fairly easy to make and don't take very long.  The baby now has some of its first toys.

I have been informed that the unicorn has won the competition to be baby's first toy.  Although Bekah hasn't seen the cat yet, and I'm now making a teddy bear.

This is not a toy, it's a beanie hat for the baby.

Robert has been pestering to crochet something for him, but what do you crochet for a fella?  Then one night I had inspiration.  Robert's phone vibrates during the night when he gets emails, and our bedside tables are wooden.  The vibration is quite loud and has been known to wake me up.  By now I had learnt enough skills to figure out a very simple pattern and set about making a bed for his phone to cushion the sound.  Unfortunately it doesn't cushion it quite enough and I have plans on how to pad it even more.

Now, all I want to do is crochet, and anything that gets in the way of me being able to crochet just makes me mad.  I think I am perhaps a little obsessed.