Gah! I guess part two will just have to wait. And so will the account of
the weekend that just was, which included dressing Lola up as a fairy
and going to Ildi and Daniel’s wedding. It was glorious weather again
and we spent a lovely afternoon at the reception in Ildi’s back garden.
Sunday was also splendid and spent largely in the garden. Lola so loves
being outside… It can be tricky stopping her eating everything she
encounters, though.
(Part One)
By coach. With a table seat. At least that’s what we thought as we
headed off in the minicab down to Hammersmith coach station. It was what
we thought until the second time the coach driver scanned his list of
passengers. Still, they did manage to get us a pair of adjacent seats on
that coach, despite having no record of our booking; they weren’t table
seats, though — they were seats with the kind of legroom that made it
almost impossible to pick anything up if you dropped it. And, when
juggling a number of bags and a wriggly ten-month-old girl, things tend
to get dropped.
Well, the height of comfort it may not have been, but it was bearable;
even when the two-and-a-half-hour trip became over three hours thanks to
an accident on the M5. Lola coped admirably, though she was a little
restless and had no particular desire to sleep. The most irritating
thing was the fact that the coach company (Berry’s) had managed to
lose our booking after we’d rung at nine on the first morning it was
possible to book that coach in order to make sure we got a table. Grrr.
Anyway, we arrived in Bridgewater around six. I handed Lola straight to
Dad as we got off the coach so we could get the luggage off. She lay
calmly in his arms, staring up at him with a solemn look.
Half an hour or so of Hymering later and we were in Watchet liquidising
rabbit stew for Lola’s dinner. (She didn’t like it — possibly the
mushrooms — so filled up on banana.) A quick play and a bath and she
was off to bed for what was to be a good night’s sleep.
Good Friday.
Went down early with an excited Lola to prepare her breakfast and my
coffee. Funny to be at your parent’s house and up before both of them; I
kind of enjoyed that, being the first down most mornings and having that
early time with Lola. And then Mum coming down and joining us. Having a
little chat in those peaceful moments before the day starts gnawing into
you.
I don’t know if Lola remembered the place but she certainly seemed happy
to be there: looking, pointing, making excited noises. After we’d
wandered the house a bit, I set her up with a little saucepan and a
couple of apples (we’d been playing with a little pan at home with
“*three* limes” in it). She sat quite contentedly, taking the lid off,
putting it back on, taking the apples out and putting them back in.
(This putting things back on and in to places is quite new.) When Mum
came down, she thought Lola needed a spoon to stir it, and Lola agreed.
Conversations between Lola and Mum regarding the progress of the
apple-cooking continued throughout the long weekend!
A yummy fried breakfast followed, then I helped Dad with the “Bus Stop”,
as he’s calling the bower he’s built in the garden. It was a gorgeous
sunny day, the birds were singing and I was manically trying to identify
them all (something of a fad of mine, currently).
After lunch we went down to the local beach in the Hymer and all sat on the
shingle sorting through the pebbles. Dad had a purpose — he wanted pebbles of
a specific colour and grade to use in finishing the paved platform in the
garden; Lola also pursued the task with great intent.
Mum and Dad left us there and went home as Mum wanted to get the dinner started and we fancied a walk back: it’s only ten minutes from the house by foot. We
stayed a little longer on the beach, which was lovely and peaceful and
generally good for the soul, and then strolled back slowly stopping to watch
some starlings, then some sheep with their lambs, then a couple of bickering
pheasants.
Back for fish pie, first for Lola and then, after she’d done her ablutions and
was abed, for us. A bit of a flop in front of the telly and then off to bed
just as Tom and Esther arrived.
Very broken night with Lola awake and screaming for at least 2 hours. Luckily, Tom and Esther had earplugs!
Saturday
Brekky. Possibly including a cheese dream.
All walked into Watchet after lunch. Went to the haberdasher’s in the little
industrial complex. Lola out of sorts, not happy to stay in her buggy, not
happy in arms.
Lola had her bath in the bathroom today, in the big bath. She enjoyed it
— well, she had her octopods in there with her. We’ll need to get some
non-stick thing going, though: it was a bit hairy keeping her from
slipping.
Anyway, I’m abed. Terrible lack of blogging — last weekend we were
completely done in, and that’s not improved much yet. My neck is doing
its painful thing, which tends to indicate chronic lack of rest. So I’ll
stop typing and go to bed. I must remember to witter on about Lola’s
changing smile, her incessant waving, her saying of sounds that mean
‘cat’ or ‘food’, her glockenspiel skills, and all that good stuff at
some point in the future.
‘Night