Category: journal

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

Looks like another glorious sunny day is brewing. Lola and I were
listening to Mozart as we prepared for the day, but it’s just switched
to The Kink’s, “All Day And All Of The Night”. We’ve done breakfast:
a whole (well, peeled and seeded) papaya liquidised with two dried
apricots which have been soaking in water all night and with the
remaining (couple of eggcupsful of) amaranth and apple porridge from
yesterday’s brekky. Bright orange and very sweet: Lola loves it!

Lola’s now pulling everything out of her toybox and her (floor level)
book shelf. Yesterday, she spent almost the entire day outside, as happy
as Larry, playing by herself as Isa and Manisha chatted. At one point,
while she was playing with her mum, Lola stood on her own for a few
seconds. Aparently both she and Isa just stared at each other in that
cartoon-style, just-walked-of-the-cliff-but-haven’t-started-falling-yet
way…

Right — to the grindstone.

It’s a gorgeous sunny afternoon, into which I may stroll briefly to see
if I can shake off this post-lunch stupor which is enveloping me. I’m
sure a nice cigarette would work 🙂 I jest. The cravings are lightening
a little, actually. No doubt that means I should be extra-vigilant as it
would be easy to fall into the “well, I’ve given up, so I can just have
one” trap.

Wonder how Isa and Lola are doing; Isa said Lola fell asleep by herself
today, as opposed to nodding off while feeding — that’s good news as
it’s rather limiting having always to have a lactating boob around when
Lola needs to nap.

Jon has finally mastered and encoded the rehearsal recordings we did on
his new digital 4-track thing last November. He’s uploaded them to
the fangled site — I must have a listen.

Well, enough blather; let’s see if this works…

Haha! We’ve tricked Lola with BST — she didn’t wake till 07:10 this morning. In a particularly good mood, it should be said, bouncing and grinning as she gazed towards us over the rail of her cot.

I’ve left Mum with her in bed and had a shower; come back to find Isa reading “Where The WIld Things Are” to her. What a lovely start to what looks like a lovely, sunny day.

Shame I have to go to work.

Though, as I peer blearily through the window into an overcast Sunday, it seems the larks are, in fact, absent, leaving Lola and me to entertain ourselves. Lola is wandering around the house in her beige canvas trousers and red bear jumper (recently arrived from Nonna); I’m preparing her amaranth brekky (see post passim).

And now we’ve done brekky and are approaching nap time. Lola wolfed down her porridge — I think she must have put on that extra kilo, given the amount she’s been eating lately: three ‘solid’ meals a day, plus all the booby.

[big gap, during which the day happened, including a nice session on the swings at Stationers park]

And thus to bed, failing once again to complete an entry properly.

Isa just got Lola to sleep. It’s the third try: she wouldn’t sleep at 9, as she usually does, so she got back up and played a bit more and came down to M&S with us to get a couple of last-minute items (grandma and Mike are coming to lunch at 1:30). Isa gave her another feed and put her back down at 11:20, but she wouldn’t have it and stood in her cot crying and getting more and more distressed. Eventually, Isa went in and calmed her down and stayed with her until, eventually, she dropped off at 11:55.

Now the new upstairs neighbour is moving in; banging up and down the stairs. Hope Lola doesn’t mind…

Our little lass has been waking this evening, sounding a little pained. Hope she’s OK.

Lola is so incredibly good natured these days. She goes through entire days chatting away to herself, pulling scarves and hats out of the basket in the hall, strolling along the sofa, playing peek-a-boo around the corners of doors, inspecting her cubes and other toys, being pushed around on her wheeled mouse (brrrrm, brrrrm, eek! eek!), sitting in her high chair munching carrots, rice cakes, chicken soup, or lamb casserole, splashing and laughing in her bath.

She’ll sit on her mouse and grip the handle with great concentration as you push her around, obviously loving every moment. Isa has had her out on the patio (we’ve had over a week of wonderful sunny days) sitting on her see-saw and rocking back and forth, hanging on with a similar concentration. When Isa stops rocking her, Lola urges the see-saw on…

Heather came to visit on Saturday, looking very well. She brought Lola a fantastic monkey which she absolutely loves; she took to it straight away, laughing and squealing as Hev made it play peek-a-boo with her. We had a great day and I think Heather really enjoyed Lola’s company. Fab.

Her name is Lola, Lola Canola
She’s got a shmola, and a little bola.

(To the tune of Mr Manilow’s Cocacabana. It’s hard, having parents who are completely bonkers in the nut. And have no taste in tunes. There’s also the following, to the tune of Duran Duran’s, “Rio”:)

My name is Lola and I’m really rather cute
I think when I grow up I might just play the flute.

*sigh*