Category: journal

Well, well –been hit by another blogging hiatus, it seems. I’ll do one of those rambling catch-up entries that doesn’t properly satisfy any specific angle of curiosity. During which I must at least mention our trip to Southend, complete with inauspicious,  badlands beginning, as well as our girls’ loveliness, cleverness and whatnot, as expressed via:  Neve’s fun with words and her balance bike, Lola’s growing curiosity and enthusiasm for learning. Today is Saturday and the cold weather that was forecast has arrived. After nearly a week of not seeing the sun, or indeed any sky through the persistent, drizzly fog, a bitter wind blew in a wet frost and then continued to bluster all day, bringing rain, clouds, and biting air. To be fair (to use a popular and lightly irritating expression), it did start off sunny, with some kind of raw beauty thing going on which made a walk up a hill outside the Shelfords to see an Obelisk which I’d spotted marked on the map seem like a good idea. So, after I rang a chandlery in Dover and spent some time talking to an extremely helpful man called Paul about how I wanted to realise the hanging of the bunk bed, and then subsequently emailing him the spec and a diagram (they’re going to make up a piece with 12mm Hempex made up with hard eyes pre-threaded into eye nuts), we all put on our winter gear and set off in the car. By the time we got to the hill, the weather was starting to glower and the wind bit as we climbed the hill. We rounded the little wood at the top and looked down across miles of Cambridgeshire. Amazing what 50 meters[1] will get you. Behind us, the sky was blackening. Ahead, Lola had nearly reached the slightly disappointing stone monument. This is apparently a memorial to Gregory Wale, erected by his friend on his death. Neve had the nursery’s peripatetic teddy with her — he was staying the weekend with us — and we’d wrapped him up warm and brought him along so we could take pics and write about the adventure in his diary. Neve really loves nursery and looks forward to it with great excitement. I’m not surprised: it’s a great nursery with fantastic teachers and an impressive approach. Lot’s of play-based fun–painting, collage, water, sand, and toys–and lots of learning. She learns a phonetic letter a week; they have lots of books to look at; and every week, each child has to do what’s known as a talking box session where they take in their own, special box (Neve decorated her own shoebox) in which they have placed a few bits and pieces which they can then talk about for a couple of minutes. Last week, Neve took in: a tiny bag of fusilli, a tiny bag of penne, two cloves of garlic, and a tin of tomatoes. Yes: it’s her favourite lunch! Anyhow… Wasn’t I supposed to be wittering about Southend? Or Tottenham-by-the-Sea, as I renamed it. We all went down a couple of Friday’s ago because I had tickets for a Rav Davies gig on that evening and I’d thought it’d be fun to take the family and make it a weekend. I browsed the InterWeb for a suitable guest-house a couple of months back and booked a room. I took a day off and we gave Lola the day off school and drove off on Friday morning. We took the scenic route, taking mainly B roads down through Saffron Walden and on to Chelmsford then bearing left for Southend. There are some really lovely old, history-soaked villages and towns on that route and we vowed to return to some of them to peruse them better. We got to Southend in the early afternoon. The town had an abandoned, run-down feel–lots of graffiti-covered, dis-inhabited office blocks, a rash of Costcutters and other ghetto-predating franchises, and a population which looked far from franchised. We punched the guest-house postcode into the navigator and soon found ourselves outside a run-down semi in a grimy back-street near the front. The landlord was out, the gravelly-voiced, 50-a-day neighbour told us as she let us in to show us the room–she had just given him a lift to the pub, she let slip. The house was revolting. The carpet in the hall was crawling and the rooms were dire. We beat a hasty retreat. When we got back outside, we were presented with a dramatic scene, as various police vehicles drew up, while other police folk arrived on foot along with a handful of M&S security staff, all engaging in the pursuit of some unseen villain. Seemed a lot of police for a shoplifting crime–perhaps some assault was involved… We left them to it and wandered off to find somewhere to have some lunch, though we ended up walking along the front in a desultory fashion, keeping an eye out for possible hotels. It was a low moment. We obviously walked the wrong way first and ended up deep in chav-land. It started raining. Isa wanted to go home. Luckily, we stuck it out and walked off in the other direction, where we found a more salubrious feel and a number of hotels, including a big new corporate thing in which we ended up getting a room (the more traditional, picturesque-looking places up the road were all fully-booked).

Anyway, all this is very well but it’s not saying much about the kids who were having a fabulous time. Whatever we saw, they saw the seaside! And they knew we were going to have fish and chips! Neve spent the entire two days, except perhaps when asleep, with her helmet on and riding her balance bike, on which she is totally at ease. She was, in fact, much more at ease than we were given the existence of actual hills is Southend which Neve would happily start riding down while we chased after her in a panic.

Our hotel room was huge and new and had a view out over the pier and the other attractions on the front. The kids had great fun playing hide and seek around the room and playing on their double sofa-bed. After we’d settled in and I’d gone to fetch the car, we all went out for fish and chips. We found a place on the front and ate there, which was fine for the kids but it was pretty dire. We should have looked around more but we were a bit tired and emotional by then…

Later, I left the girls in the hotel and went off in the rain to see Ray Davies.( A really good show but I won’t go into it here.) To everyone’s great relief, the sun was out in the morning and we spent a happy day wandering along the beach, eating chips on the shore, and walking through the fun fair. The girls had a go on the big wheel and were delighted. Phew!

 

The Hoopers are reunited in Cambridge. I went to pick the girls up on Sunday night and, given that we weren’t in bed before 2am, took Monday off. Which gave us all a chance to get back into the swing of things at a relaxed pace. Very relaxed in fact, as we didn’t get out of bed until 11am — quite possibly the longest lie in we’ve had since the kids were born. After brunch, we got on the bikes and took the scenic route into Cambridge to look for a birthday present for Raffie. We wandered around Trinity Street and the market and then went into St Michael’s cafe for lunch. Soup and potatoes. Very nice. How long before we all go screaming bonkers mad again? 🙂

 

 

 

 

Is something Lola has grown very fond of since I’ve been home and she left in Italy. I called her first, the morning after my return–she’d spent the night “alone” at Nonna’s as Mum and Neve were in hospital (“hostable”, as Lola has passibly now stopped saying). I asked how how she’d been and she told me how she’d been a little bit tearful on the way back from the airport but that Stefi had been there and made her feel better. (Stefi had stayed for the night, sleeping with Lola in Nonna’s bed.) Then she said something like, “now that I’m remembering it, I’m feeling a little bit tearful again,” which I found very affecting.

Lola went on to ask me how things were in Cambridge and we talked a bit about the allotment. She suggested that water and food might help the beleaguered tomatoes. After a while, we started saying our goodbyes, and then, just before she went, Lola said, “Oh, Dad, can you tell me your telephone number?”. So I gave her my number and she took it down and then read it back to me and then asked how to spell “phone” and “number”. She asked when she could call me and I think I said anytime tomorrow and we rang off.

Since when, she has been calling me every day and we’ve chatted in what feels like a very grown-up way. Which, as well as the lack of hpysical context, makes the squeeky voice sound particualrly and incongruously squeeky.

This is the happy ending to this entry, which you may want to read first.

I spoke to Isa last night and she filled in the rest of the story which, as well as I remember, was this. The staff throughout the stay were fantastic. Three nurses attended on Neve while they waited for theatre, they painted her nails, played with her, got her paper and paint. Neve was calm and happy. Even on the table surrounded by doctors and nurses (and Isa) only the wiggling of her feet betrayed a little nervousness. They gave her gas and blissed her out and then she had the general and was wheeled in. dThe operation went smoothly and she came out within an hour and she and Isa were put in a room in paediatric. Isa was told she could share the (good sized) bed with Neve, or she could sleep in the armchair. Isa shared the bed with Neve and dozed while Neve slept. A cot was wheeled in in the early hours and a new patient and parent joined the room.

Neve and Isa slept on until they were woken by the beeping of the drip trolley, which had detected the end of its contents. Neve opened her eyes and said, “that’s a lovely cot isn’t it Mummy? Is it for little Nevey?” and then turned and went back to sleep. When she woke later she was happy and singy and spent a lovely day in a calm, air-conditioned room with good neighbours, TV, and lovely attentive staff. All the family came to visit during the day They wanted Neve to stay another night and Isa would have done so happily if it weren’t for Lola. So she signed Neve out and went off home, stopping at the gelateria to pick up Lola.

It was super-hot and super-humid and the house was full of relatives, doubly-excited due to Selena and Alvise’s return from honeymoon. Isa shut the door on them and watched a DVD with the kids.

Neve ate, sang and played as usual, showing no sign of discomfort. They had dinner and then had a long bath (a special treat as it had been showers only up to that point) and by the time they’d finished that the family had all gone except for Selena and Alvise and they had a chilled-out time with them chatting about the honeymoon and playing with the cinderella and Snow White dolls which they brought back for the girls.

Neve went happily to bed with Lola in Nonna’s room (where Lola had slept the previous night with Stefi). Which is something we could have tried earlier — there are possibly fewer mosquitoes there. Anyway, Neve slept soundly and seems to have come out of the experience as the same oh-so-very-happy-and-chirpy girl she was before. 🙂

The coin that Neve swallowed turned out to be a five cent piece as opposed to the one euro she claimed she’d ingested.

Yes, it was horrible and it went a bit like this. Yesterday, after lunch, Isa and I collapsed on the sofa to watch the rest of The Artist while the kids were in bed starting their afternoon nap. I was packed and ready to go and catch my 22:30 flight for which I’d need to leave the house at 8pm. We were tired and emotional, looking forward to a quick siesta as well. Lola and Neve were not settling down. Laughter and chat was getting louder and then took on a more plaintive tone. I went in to tell them to quiet down and found Neve standing near the door and Lola in bed. Neve was a bit distressed and Lola told me she’d swallowed a coin. We quickly took Neve into the kitchen to asses her. She was upset and crying and obviously in some discomfort. There was a brief period (a few seconds) of gagging but she started to settle down quite quickly and was able to drink some rice milk. As she could breath OK and could swallow her drink, we assumed that she swallowed the coin and that we would have to wait for it to be excreted. (A check with Google and BMJ resources confirmed that no internention was recommended in these cases and that the coin would make its way out in one to four weeks.) I calmed Isa, who was wondering about taking her to A&E, and we decided to keep her at home. As she was still pretty sleepy, we put her back to bed and she slept. We went in after twenty minutes and she was sleeping peacefully, so Isa and I went for a quick nap, too.

Within an hour of falling asleep, I woke to find Isa gone and the sound of Neve crying inconsolably with discomfort. I was exhausted and couldn’t wake easily. As such, I was far from a calming influence when I went into the kitchen to find Nonna calling a doctor and a very distressed Isa with an equally distressed Neve. Neve was drooling a fair bit and crying in pain — the kind of locked-in crying that is extremely hard to read and communicate through. I was slow and silent, not properly on-line; Isa was high-speed and panicked. It’s a common response and hard for us to overcome. But we did and within 15 minutes were on our way to Pronto Socorso with Claudio. Neve didn’t want to go and was screaming, “No! No!” as we drove off–though she had calmed down by the time we reached the end of the drive. At this point, our working assumption was that she had bruised or scratched her throat and that this was the cause of the distress.

We got to PS between six-thirty and seven. (A very impressive PS with an enclosed ramp leading right to the door for drop off, continuing down to the car park. The building was extremely clean, air-conditioned, and with an impressive traige system linked to large LCS screens around the waiting areas.) A couple of fantastic male nurses took our details initially and tended to agree that the coin would be in her stomach (as she had no trouble breathing) and we would just have to wait for it to come out. They put us in line for a paediatric doctor, giving us a “green” label. After about a half-hour wait, Isa, Neve and I were called through to see the doctor. The nurse and doctor were also both lovely. We had a quick chat and the doctor agreed it was probably in her stomach. The nurse had a child who had also swalled a coin, and that had been expelled naturally. The doctor, who looked to be in his twenties and also spoke some English, wanted to feel Neve’s stomch but Neve got very distreed and wouldn’t let him. No worries, said the doctor and sent us off for a routine X-ray.

More waiting in Radiography and then I stayed outside while Isa went in with Neve. More waitng and then the doors opened and I found out that the coin was in fact stuck right at the top of her throat. I asked the radiographer if it was in the oesophagus or the trachea, and he said you couldn’t tell from the X-ray–it seemed to be around epiglottis height–but that he expected the oesophagus as there were no respitory symptoms.

Yet more waiting in Radiography, during which the lovely triage nurse happened past and stopped briefly to chat. He’d heard about the X-ray result and said he’d try to get something for Neve to play with. He came back in a couple of minutes with a couple of plastic figurines for her–a princess and a little dog. Neve was delighted and played with them until the nurse came to take us back to the doctor. She was making up stories and songs for them, running around and singing: it was great to see, though I had to ask her not to jump up and down as I was worried she’d dislodge the coin.

By the time the doctor spoke to us it was nearly eight and I was getting pretty anxious about having to leave to catch my flight. I wanted to wait to see what they planned to do before I left. The doctor said that they would get a specialist up to use a short tube to look down her throat and, assuming there were no complications, to pull the coin out (jaws on the end of an endoscpe, I guess). Maybe, he said, a gastroenterologist would be required to take a deeper look.

So I took a difficult and tearful goodbye of Isa and Neve and went to find Claudio. We got home just after half-eight. I was anxious. All the family were there. I rushed around double-checking my bags, packing the stuff that was in the fridge, trying to grab a few mouthfuls of food, and trying to explain all that was going on. Lola, thankfully, was very happy and playing with Stefi. Isa rang and said that they were going to give Neve a general anaesthetic and try to remove the coin, and that she would be kept in for two days. While attempting to digest this, I jumped in the car with Renzo, Stefi and Lola and we set off to the airport.

I explained what was happening to Lola and she understood and was happy that everything was OK. I checked in my bag and joined the queue for security, chatting to Lola all the while. I asked Stefi if she or Giada could stay with Lola that night, as it might be hard for her with just Nonna. As the queue receded, I said my goodbyes. Lola went off looking a bit folorn and I carried on through the system. After security had discovered it was only cibo in my hand luggage (the jokey lady telling me what a feast they’d have had with all the cheese and salami and coffee), I joined a long queue for gate four. Which I where I was still at twenty past nine to say that Neve had gone into theatre. By ten o’clock, we’d gone through customs and I was sitting waiting at the gate when the text came through to say the coin was out without complication and that Neve was out and sleeping.

That’s what that smell is, said Neve, as we cycled up to Volpago del Montello at 07:30 this morning, having got up early to avoid the heat.

We went up the Via Sambugo and then Via Antiga. Past the quarry, dodging the water squirters watering the maize fields. Past run-down farms and ageing dogs, roadside shrines and basking dragonflies. Over the canal and on down towards the Montello. The heat was rising as we hit Volpago at 08:30 so we stopped for a quick breakfast at the first bar we found (which, unfortunately, produced cappucini alla Inglese along with some rather dubious pastries) and then headed home down the same route.

Neve’s bum has become a famous local landmark as it is barely ever covered. She can hardly be blamed for disrobing at every opportunity: it’s often hitting 40 degrees and is generally over 75% humidity. Afa they call it here. Humans hate it; mosquitoes love it. Mosquitoes also love Lola, who is getting bitten terribly. She seems particularly reactive and has had quite a few go weepy and pussy.

It’s true. Though they are getting longer: it’s getting dark by nine now. Though when it’s light, it’s very very light. (Or “wewwy, wewwy light, as Neve might have said not so long ago.) Neve has done one of those growing-up spurts while here. I remember we noted the same in Lola before–there’s a lot of context change, a lot of new data to crunch. She’s doing a great job of trying out Italian and is always repeating and using phrases she hears.

Neve’s got over her timidity around i zii now — she’s quite happy to play with Claudio and Renzo. In fact, she greets everyone with great delight and excitement. She really is an incredible little girl, so like her own caricature with the great big brown eyes and that amazing grin. She continues to love to chat and tell stories and talk about what she’s going to do with her friends. While we’ve been here in Italy she keeps saying, “when we get back to our house I’m going to go with Otis to the swimming park”.

She’s been getting really into the two Barbie dolls which are here–she gets up in the morning and the first thing she wants is her Barbies. I say “her”, but that is, of course, the root of some litigation as Lola wants to share and expends a lot of effort trying to get them away from Neve and to be “fair” about sharing them. Fairness is currently the cause of quite some parental exasperation…

She still often runs to Isa or me for a big cuddle and a spontaneous, “I love you sooo much!”. Which is as lovely as ever.

After great anticipation on Lola’s part, her and Neve’s moment as flower girls finally arrived. Saturday was a hot day, but not blistering, and with the frequent but unrequited threat of rain. Preparations went pretty smoothly. Isa was, as ever, stuck doing everyone’s hair throughout the day and we (Lola, Neve, Dedi, Nonna and I) left her doing Giada’s hair when we set off for pre-wedding refreshments at Bruna’s house.

Isa turned up in time to join in for a while before we had to head off to the church for 5pm. We should really have left five minutes earlier because Selena, not one for adopting the role of fashionably late bride, beat us there and was waiting, chomping at the bit, outside the church while we struggled to get the kids unbelted and into position.

We all had no doubt the priest was right when he later said Selena was the most punctual bride he’d ever had. We managed to get the girls in front of the bride and her father just in time and Lola did a great job of walking the rings down to the altar. Neve, who is terribly timid these days, broke ranks and walked down the side with Isa, joining again at the end.

The service was an odd mix of formal liturgy and personal musings from the priest who revealed the reactionary nature of the Church when he spoke of Alvise’s needing sometimes to recognise his wife’s tiredness and offering to wash the dishes occasionally. And of how he had to make sure he showed his wedding ring to any pretty females he encountered so that they would be put off and, presumably, save him from his own temptation. All a bit wince-worthy. By the time they got to the mass, Lola had her arms folded and was staring heavenwards with a look that might have caused any deity to waive the rest of the show. It wound up pretty quickly after that, though, and the bride and groom retired into whatever the area behing the altar is called to have some pics taken. Lola was a bit put out that she wasn’t invited up there with them but we managed to get their attention and they were very happy to pose for a couple of pics with Lola and Neve. Lola was very chuffed.

So then it was time to line up outside the church and throw rice at the bride and groom — another moment of great excitement for the kids who, not happy with the brevity of it all, spent the next 15 minutes collecting fallen rice and re-throwing it Isa and me.

After the picture-taking, we all drove off to the reception which was in a restaurant about 30 minutes drive away called “I Sette Nani” (“The Seven Dwarves” — don’t ask me why, the staff looked pretty normal to me). We started outside with prosecco and sangria and pre-antipasti food: the sliced-to-order carpaccio of swordfish was my favourite, I think. But there were all sorts of things from battered whitebait and fishy pastries to fruit skewers. Once the bride and groom arrived, and a little more milling had been done, we all retired inside for the start of the meal proper.

Nine or so courses later we were all done. Amazingly, the girls managed to keep going to the end. Lola had a bit of a crisis around course six, but got a second wind and was dancing and playing chase at midnight. We left “early” — just as the coffee was being served at around 1am. The girls were asleep before we left the car park. Dedi didn’t know the way back and her own in-car navigator didn’t know the way home, so I fired up Google’s navigator app and that took us home without problem.