So, Cameron spent 2 weeks in Switzerland on a course. (No I have no idea, you’d have to ask him.) Fortunately we had had enough notice of this one that I had my parents booked for the first week – always good to have extra pairs of hands for the small fee of meals and coffees out; Dad even pickaxed-up two patches of very hard lawn, which now very much resemble freshly dug graves, for me to assemble my raised beds, ex-allotment (boo hiss), next spring.

The middle weekend was spent with about 20-odd people (friends and friends-of-friends) at the very lovely park hall; highly recommended if you need somewhere to accommodate so many people in the middle of nowhere, want a small pebbly bay within walking distance and a lovely sandy beach a 10-minute drive, don’t mind having no phone reception and fancy fresh air and silence. The girls had a whale of a time, I got loads of sleep, what more could we have wanted?

The second week actually passed surprisingly peacefully, despite me having a  looming deadline (which was supposed to be my last as I have awarded myself some maternity leave). Oh, and we just won’t mention me locking the keys (car and house) into the car boot and spending a good 3 hours organising and then waiting for my rescue service. If I hadn’t been quite so pregnant, and hadn’t had 2 small children to watch me, and had thought of it (!), I could have probably managed to get up onto the roof and in through the bathroom window. It wouldn’t have been elegant.

Friday morning, Cameron had to get a train right across Switzerland to catch a plane: this got him home a mere half-hour later than anticipated which allowed us an overlap of approximately 25 minutes (I wrote a briefing note) before it was my turn to go! On the train to London to meet Pewari and attend TAM.

Great weekend. Great. Even though I am truly abysmal as a modern woman and missed my children (we are all supposed to be champing at the bit to get away for some Me Time.) All the speakers were exceptional, without, um, exception; a couple of the comedians on the Saturday night were not entirely my thing but given that we were at the conference centre from 8 am and didn’t get back to the hotel until 1130, I was feeling quite jaded by then anyway. My quote of the conference goes to Glenn Hill (son of the Cottingley Fairies photographer) who described people of religion as “human goslings”, imprinting on the first thing they are told. In context it was quite brilliant. My heart was warmed by the delegates’ reaction to Simon Singh announcing his wife was expecting their first baby: proof positive that sceptics are not cynics.

In no particular order, my impressions were as follows: great shoes, wacky slogan T-shirts, i-phones, twitter. Geeky yet pleasant and very friendly. How can they expect you to eat sausage and mash without a knife (and why no ketchup?). Dehydration. Bad coffee; good choice of teas. “Breakfast” does not equal coffee and a pastry in my book. Richard Wiseman hilarious.

Maggie asked Cameron on Saturday whether I would be home this week. Apparently if I was (I am, obviously) we would “be like a proper family”. Way to layer the guilt, child. May I just point out that the last time I went away overnight leaving Cameron to do childcare, I was expecting Tamsin?

Train travel with small children – fantastic in that they are not strapped into a seat, they can colour and draw as they have a table, can get up to go to the loo and there are interesting things to look at out of the window. Drawbacks? They are not strapped into their seats (!) and I have a horror of impinging on other people’s peace and quiet.

We travelled from Chester to London, arriving around lunchtime – dumped our bags at the hotel and made our way to the Natural History museum. Brilliant, but unfortunately the entire under-13 population of London had chosen the same day to visit so although we spent time in the fascinating geology section and saw the whales, some of the mammals and some ichthyosaurs, there was a huge queue for the dinosaurs. Of course, with hindsight and post-disney, a 45-minute wait is nothing and we should have just queued and looked on it as good practice and getting our eye in.

The next morning saw us trundling cases to board the Disney Express! (more…)

Just back from the dentist: T fell flat on her face in the kitchen this morning and chipped her front two teeth. Poor wee mite. (Seems quite cheery now and is doing her very best with some bread even though they must hurt.) Dentist says they don’t have to be taken out (phew), chances are the second teeth underneath shouldn’t be damaged (phew) but they might go greyish or even black. And to give her calpol (ha ha ha perhaps she’d like to come and do it – it is easier to give pills to a cat).

We had planned to go to the village toddler group for the second time this morning, but are now going to have a nice quiet day at home instead. I went once when we moved here, with M, but she was too old really. Then we were Very Brave last week and tried it again (mother and toddler groups can be quite scary, if you are a wuss like me. I mean, they are not actually scary. But full of women who know each other and don’t know you.) It was fine! Better than that, it was nice. Only about 14 mums and babies, crumpets for the little ones to eat, and a nice old lady came at the end to play the piano for songs.

While I am here (I don’t seem to be, much, at the moment), let me recommend a lovely holiday cottage in the Peak District: Harthill Hall. There were 23 of us and we stayed in the Manor House (trampoline, games room with wii, hot tub) but there are smaller cottages for smaller groups. We bagsied the master bedroom with an enormous 4-poster and a claw-footed bath int he middle of the room; it had a small anteroom (cupboard) with a tiny bed in, just right for M who thought she was a princess in a castle. Most people walked but we just stayed put: the children bounced for almost the entire weekend and I read a book!

Pittenweem art festival last weekend. Mixed weather; Tamsin dislikes sand; most of the art the same as usual (in a good way) though I was enormously disappointed that Susan McGill‘s gorgeous black and white ceramics sold so quickly – mostly at her preview – and had to settle for a necklace instead of a candlestick. Hope she is there again next year. Saw Aunties Irene, Catherine and Rachel, and took the children to a ceilidh – it took M a while to want to join in but she enjoyed it once she did. Auntie Irene managed to charm Yoshihito Kawabata, one of the invited artists, who had made a stone circle on the pier, into presenting her with one of his pebbles but we failed to see him at all.

Back to the to-do list again once we got home, then on Friday I went into Liverpool with some friends to see the Klimt exhibition. It was not quite as I expected – my expectations being based almost entirely on this picture, which adorned the wall of nearly every student flat I ever lived in. It wasn’t there (but others were, which were similar and lovely, alongside some of his landscapes, which were lovely too, and a load of random articles by other members of the Viennese Secession, some of which were lovely and some not so lovely and none of which really seemed to have anything to do with Klimt apart from being made by people who knew him. And some other paintings by him, some of which were interesting and some not so interesting). Afterwards, dinner at Etsu, which has got all sorts of people talking. (The restaurant, not us having gone to it.) The word on the street, which I can back up now I have been myself, if that it is not posh but it is very authentic. We eschewed the Brit-friendly starter and main course set up and ordered plate after plate of starters; stuffed ourselves silly with gorgeous Japanese food and came home very happy indeed. Though I make better gyoza myself.

Japanese food again on Saturday as we went to the Hanyuda-sans’ leaving party. I feel very spoilt. And very full.

OK so I’ve been back for a week, but I’ve been busy!

Skye was gorgeous (some photos here but don’t click unless you are keen on pretty hills and my children); weather was mixed to say the least, but we were only rained off on two days and the first was rather pleasant with games and dvds and general not-doing-much. (On the second we were Doomed: we tried to go swimming, the pool was shut; to a playground, which we couldn’t find; on a boat, too choppy…ended up driving from Broadford to Staffin for a baked potato. Lovely scenic drives and small walks between showers are fine for us but the girls were fed up. We finished in a pub playing giant connect four.)

We travelled up via Glencoe and the ferry for the sake of the romance. Week 1 we stayed in Glendale (in the fabulous missionary’s house): high points included a wonderful meal at the three chimneys (inlaws handily in a nearby B&B and could be called upon for babysitting duties), spotting a golden eagle at the Quiraing, Neist point (though we disappointingly failed to see sharks, dolphins, or anything much beyond sheep). Tamsin had a wonderful time shouting BAA! at every single sheep (there are a lot of sheep) and I enjoyed preparing very basic meals from the village shop and reading books. Maggie walked well. The roads, 2m-wide sheep-covered strips of tarmac across moors, took a little getting used to, and it never got dark. We could see the outer hebrides from our living room.

Week 2 we stayed in Breakish, near Broadford and the bridge. Failed to see otters (we will just have to go again) even though we made the trip to the hide but we visited the serpentarium and held a python. We popped onto the mainland to visit Eilean Donan and Plockton (of Hamish MacBeth fame) and to go on a boat trip. We had scenic drives, walked round Loch Coruisk in the driving rain, built sandcastles and generally pottered about. Lit the stove in the evenings as it was chilly, and ate lovely fish.

Allotment weeds are as high as my head, I have a pile of work on, and Cameron is away on a course. Back to real life.

What we did (last weekend) was head down to mum and dad’s. Friday we went to Legoland, Maggie’s slightly belated birthday treat. It took her a little while to get into it – for the idea of “going on things” to sink in – but once it did, she loved it. She was much braver than we expected and loved the jetski ride with Cameron. The lego troll in the fairyland brook was a bit scary, though – and it was a bit of a shame it wasn’t warmer as there is a fantastic water-play area for littlies. We only had to shelter from one rainstorm, which is pretty good going, and unfortunately ran out of steam before getting to the Viking water ride thing I fancied going on – but that just means we will have to go again. Nice and quiet on a Friday, too.
Cameron spotted in the paper that there was a Banksy “thing” happening at Waterloo, and as luck would have it we were planning a day in London on Saturday anyway. We had tickets for the Lord of the Rings musical and my parents primed for a day of childcare. Cameron’s city knowledge far surpasses mine these days (the shame) and he led us straight to the appropriate tunnel – a short queue and we were in. Lots of great stencilling but my absolute favourite was the small children with spray-cans and crayola stencils merrily putting up small dolphins and palm trees!

After lunch we walked over to the theatre, past huge crowds out enjoying the sunshine on the south bank. The musical was fine: what a treat to go to the theatre in the afternoon and beautifully, spectacularly staged. The incidental music was nice but the songs forgettable and the trouble with the LOTR story – well actually there are a couple of troubles with it. One, there is just too much of it so it had to be cut hugely (of course, who wants to sit in a theatre for 4 days), and two, there is a lot of “travelling” or “being chased” which in effect means watching people run in circles round the stage. Still it was 3 hours and I didn’t feel bored, so that says something. And I loved the bit where the orcs came along the aisles and leered at the audience. I was scared and the little girl in front of us was utterly terrified.

Dinner in Chinatown and home to a sleeping baby (!) and an in-bed child. Fantastic.

We had a brilliant week at Centerparc and have come back quite recharged (Cameron especially, with his 2 weeks in the states beforehand, has been out of the office for an unusually long time). If exhausted. Swimming for several hours 5 days running (both Maggie and Mia are really starting to swim); the girls went on a pony trek – Maggie rode Valentino and Mia, Red – and I felt quietly virtuous as I cycled through the forest before 9 am one morning en route to a yoga class. Which was fantastic and left me all stretched and calm (which of course didn’t last 2 minutes but that is not the point) while a bit sad that I can’t find time to do it more regularly: 4 classes since M was born is not a very good rate. I keep toying with the idea of a DVD but realistically I know myself and I will never do it. Oh, and Suzanne and I sloped off to spend an afternoon at the spa. How yummy are we. The children slept like the dead: Maggie and Mia, despite sharing a room, went off without even demanding a story one night!

We got back Friday and spent the weekend mostly pottering. Saturday, I turned the compost in the home bin, which is not yet ready to use. I am still highly suspicious it is feeding some animals, presumably rats. Pulled ground elder out of the rose bed while Cameron tackled the shed and made a large pile of stuff for the tip.
On Sunday I spent a couple of child-free hours at the allotment. It felt surprisingly cosy despite the earlier snow – we only had a scattering – even though at one point I was hailed on.
My first tulips have flowered! Gorgeous creamy-white ones (“purissima”, I think, although they don’t much resemble the description beyond being quite white). All the tulips at the allotment have been carefully selected to go nicely with my decor so I cut the first 5 and brought them home and they do look absolutely fabulous on the mantelpiece. Am very pleased with them (they opened right out through the course of the afternoon then shut back up again at night, too.)

One of my PSBs is finally starting to produce some purple sprouts, which is most exciting. Unlike the other three which remain resolutely green and leafy.

Finished double-digging and manuring the site for my first raised bed, and got it constructed. I am so smug. I need to buy some bags of compost to fill it, as my home-made stuff isn’t there yet, but I can’t tell you how proud I was. Shame I forgot to pack my camera.

Last night we went Out, to see I’m sorry I haven’t a clue. Not a recording; they are touring a kind of greatest hits. Very funny indeed and Sara and Ian, the crack babysitting team, had Tamsin asleep in her own cot by 7.15 where she made not a sound until about midnight (then was up every hour or so all night long: how do they know?)

And today was back to normal(ish) as C had to get to work – in my car – and M had to get to preschool.

Well, that all went jolly smoothly. Friday night, Bill Bailey – perhaps not quite as funny as I might have hoped (the Guardian reviewer agreed with me): when he was funny he was very very funny but in between the funny bits he was not. Peculiar crowd too (and I was utterly amazed to realise he is popular enough to sell out 3 nights at the MEN arena). Unfortunately the first stand-up I saw live was Eddie Izzard and all others suffer by comparison.

Maggie went to bed as normal; Tamsin was up and down all evening (but fortunately Cameron was home so no real problem). A late night for me, so I was tired, but it was well worth it to get out for once, even if I was offically really rubbish and missed them.

Last night, Christy Moore. Worried would be too strong a word, but I was a little concerned Tamsin would be even more reluctant to go to sleep for an almost-complete stranger and I didn’t like to think of her crying (for the sake of either of them and selfishly for the sake of me ever going out in the future). Nona turned up around 6; the girls had had their tea and were getting into their jimjams. Tamsin did not want a feed so eventually I waved goodbye and drove to Manchester with some trepidation.

Christy was fabulous (of course): one of the friends I went with admitted afterwards that actually she hadn’t really known who he was and had certainly never heard him sing (brave of her to come, really – a few others were put off by his wiki entry) but she was converted. The chap next to me required no converting whatsoever but laughed unroariously at Mr Moore’s every amusing comment and sang loudly whenever the opportunity presented. (Fair enough up to a point but I had to consider* pointing out that I had paid good money to hear a professional singer. Churlish, me?!)

Best of all, I came home to find Nona serenely sipping a cup of tea and reading her Cheshire Life magazine. Maggie had gone to sleep after 3 stories and a drink of water (despite protesting she was not tired); and Tamsin. Well, Tamsin. I was agog and aghast (in a good way) to hear that she had not wanted to go into her cot at bedtime – as expected – but had, on being brought down to sit on the sofa and play with Nona’s glasses case, eventually put her little head down and then,  with a bit of gentle patting, fallen asleep by 7.45. Lifted into her cot, she didn’t make another peep until she heard me come in around 11.15 (and even then she just shouted, turned over, and went back off for another half hour). Astounding!

*No of course I didn’t. Nor did I tut or anything.

Despite the memory lapse that saw Cameron in London on Friday lunchtime rather than here-with-the-afternoon-off, we had a super weekend away (Sara came in my car, we went in convoy with Ian and Nona, and Cameron arrived by train that evening). If you can rustle up 20 friends* I can recommend Plas Glansevin enormously: never have I seen such a well-equipped kitchen (and I mean never, not just never in a holiday cottage). A barbecue in the pouring rain on Friday night; Maggie stayed up until 10.30! She was having so much fun running with the pack (children aged 7, 10, 11 and a couple of 13 year olds, plus a games room with ping pong and table football – though Tamsin’s walker was a big hit too - and a special secret lounge**.) Saturday morning, once everybody was up and dressed and breakfasted, a walk was proposed. Round the Usk Reservoir, “around 3 miles”, no problem, we thought. A bit grey and drizzly but it will be fine. And fine it was – once we’d crossed the dam and out of the chilly wind (that child needs a hat), it was really very pleasant. Maggie did spectacularly well and walked and walked and walked, despite it being significantly further than 3 miles (I reckon maybe 5),  despite nobody having brought any food or drink, and despite wearing wellies. Blackberries is all she (and the rest of us) had to eat en route. She was carried towards the end but nothing wrong with that. Tamsin, of course, was carried the whole way and had a lovely sleep for most of it. On the way home we drove past the red kite feeding station and saw loads of lovely birds! Didn’t stop, which was a shame, but we were engrossed in trying to get a convoy of vehicles (we were like rush hour all on our own) past a sheep trailer on a bend in a one-lane road.

Another barbecue tea and the children went to bed earlier if not exactly early. I have no idea how M survived the weekend (but she has slept until 8 every morning this week so I am not complaining).

Sunday was warm and sunny so we decided to go for a short stroll up the hill. Predictably, Guy with the GPS and the map could not prevent us getting lost (we are not lost we know exactly where we are) and it turned into another 5 mile trek. Interesting, though: we met some farmers, a lady with a chainsaw, and I wonder if the old farmers are still talking about the woman who pulled a baby off her back, perched on a gate and breastfed it in the field while waiting for a herd of sheep to run past – complete with sheepdogs, Maggie was thrilled. More blackberries and one apple between the whole group, we were very happy when we finally found the house and discovered Nona and Irene had lunch all prepared. Could have done without the kitten death in front of some of the children in the afternoon (stray terrier running amok), and it was a shame our second expedition to the red kite centre was mis-timed so they had all been fed before we got there. But otherwise we had a lovely weekend and came back all refreshed. And with bags of laundry, naturally.

*I didn’t rustle, I was rustled.
**I sneaked off upstairs with my book on a couple of occasions: most comfy.