Yes. Lola will now come and tell us if she’s done a pooh. Sometimes, she’ll get us the information before the event and this Friday such forewarning occurred and she was able to get her nappy off and sit on the loo and deliver stright into the water. And, lo, did we cheer.
Unfortunately, the weekend that followed (the very same which is now ending) was not replete with cheer. For sure, we have good cause for cheer being, as we are, in receipt of Isa’s sister, Lola’s aunty, and my cognata. They are all staying in the sitting room under the name of “Denis Feltrin”. And indeed, it’s lovely to have her (back for a second visit after 12 years!)
The unfortunate thing is that Lolly is not well — just as she was picking up after her recent tummy bug/teething thing, too. Maybe it’s part of the same thing; she never got rid of the phlegm or the runny nose, really. Friday night, though, she couldn’t sleep and was drooling gallons and swallowing snot and crying all night. Saturday, we all drove up to Hitchin to go to the market. It was wet and cold and the market was crap and we went to console ourselves with lunch in a Cafe Rouge where, it turned out, the service was pathetic but the food quite edible. Lola ate quite happily, too, but then suddenly was crying with every mouthful and we noticed she had a very red tongue with some sort of blistery little spots (I wondered were they the taste buds, inflamed). She rallied, and we advanced on the rest of the day, taking a cross-country route back home which gave us a bit of a lift as we took in some pretty villages and some great storm-light-over-the-fields views.
That tongue has stayed with Lola, though, and she’s found it really hard to eat since then and has obviously been feeling pretty rotten. She’s ragged because she can’t sleep (she eventually fell asleep in our bed at 04:30 on Sunday. So far tonight (Sunday) she’s managed an hour and a half (after a rough start for an hour or two). Fingers are crossed.