Third Generation, Boy One

Our family, the one Seamus and Matty started, is big on girls, and short on boys. The parents had five daughters, two sons, six granddaughters, two grandsons and, so far, eight great-granddaughters and three great-grandsons. That works out at three times as many girls. 

The story goes (probably made up) that Seamus and Matty wanted two of each. And started off with two girls. Time for the boys. First another girl. Then along came Eamon, blessed with three older sisters. Matty and Seamus press on for the boy, two more girls, then came Joseph, blessed with five older sisters, lucky boy.

The next generation consisted of six girls and two boys and three of those girls were mine. The generation after that, eight girls and three boys. Boy one in that generation is James, my only beautiful grandson who is nine years old today. 

Happy birthday James, we love you dearly.

Both pictures featuring James taken by Zoe.

Garlic Tears and Shiny Bales

 

This was a crop from a previous year. It wasn't so good this year even though I started with fresh cloves. Normally I'd have covered the beds with fallen autumn leaves to keep weeds down, last year I didn't bother. Mistake. So here I am with a poor crop and am unable to buy new bulbs from GB because of the protocol. I did (whisper it) chance eBay. The sellers on there don't do paperwork but I'll not be counting garlic cloves until they're hatched. They might be crap.

Today I'm going to look back to my recent visit to Pensthorpe Natural Park in Norfolk. It was just Katy and myself, James and Emily. James was supercharged that day. He loves everything about Pensthorpe and never stopped running. The water, the birds, the play park, the water, the gift shop. the water - he was soaking at the end but there was a change of clothes so no problem. I didn't buy anything in the gift shop, too busy minding the children while Katy had a look around. The books looked interesting though. It was good to see our own Dara McAnulty in fine company.

The hay was lifted from the meadow today, and it's all bare and scraped back and ready for next year. I might scatter a bit more yellow rattle seed near the stream and I am considering starting some patches of corn marigold at the sunniest edges. But mostly I am hoping to see what the seedbed will bring forth. Exciting times. No pictures though as there are four big shiny black bales plonked in it. And I thought it was to be baled the old-fashioned way. Embarrassing. 

Granny Fuzzbomb

 One of the things that worried me (slightly) about going to Norfolk was that after two long years James and Emily might have forgotten me. I needn't have worried. There was no shyness, no hesitancy. They slipped straight into beloved grandchildren mode right from the start. 

On a walk with Granny

Eating KitKats

New sunnies

Now, if I might be excused I'm going to cut myself a fringe. 

The Thirtieth Day

 My thirty alcohol-free days are up today. There are two bottles of wine in the cupboard and I may open one on Friday evening. After all, there is little point in completing the experiment and then starting to drink on a weeknight. 

I'm feeling so dull these days. Lockdowns are tough-going. I miss charity shops and friends coming round and taking the train to Belfast. Most of all I miss my grandchildren in Norfolk. It has been 19 long months since I've seen them and they are getting so grown-up. My Katy sent these pictures and I just gazed and gazed at them.

One good thing about all this extra time at home is the opportunity to read. I managed to complete three books from my reading basket these past few days.

I've been a long time labouring at Sybille Bedford and often lost track of who was who and where. A family tree would have been useful. A Legacy was replaced by the Authenticity Project, a mother's day gift from Hannah.

Next book completed was The Ghost Road, the third in the Regeneration trilogy. All were excellent. As shown, I replaced it with another Pat Barker which I'm looking forward to starting.

Just think! So many books being published right now and I'll be eighty-something before I get around to reading them if Barker and Ishiguro are anything to go by. Never Let Me Go was an odd read but I liked it enough to make plans to read his most recent publication before I'm even seventy. I replaced the Ishiguro with the Hilary Mantel. Bert read that recently and recommended it. Hopefully, it will warm me up for the Cromwell trilogy.

Happy Birthday, Choo-Choo!

My lovely grandson celebrated his third birthday today. Lots of presents and cards and his Daddy made him this cake. Young James is very, very keen on trains.

Meanwhile, in Springhill and beyond....

The garlic has all been lifted although little else achieved in the polytunnel today, apart from watering. Gathered a few strawberries, there were only a few! I think we should replace the plants. Raspberries are better but not as good as last year. They are yielding about a kilo a day.

Mother Nature doing well with the bilberries. We went for a walk in the Glens this evening and the bushes were laden. We ate our fill and walked on.

No floors mopped today!

Tomorrow I plan to have a lot of fun. Bert and I are taking Martha and Evie to Barrys in Portrush to go on all the rides. We're hoping Hannah can join us after she finishes work as we oldies are scared of going on the big dipper.

What I Did On My Holidays

The main thing I did on my holidays was fall madly in love with my fourth grandchild, Emily. She fell asleep on me a lot and there is a part of me, my left side from my shoulder down to my breast where she has left a psychic imprint.

The next big thing was immersing myself in the world of trains with James. I have probably watched at least half of the available episodes of Thomas the Tank Engine by now and together with James I watched hours of YouTube videos of steam engines in America. These films are surprisingly soothing and proved very much so the day that James had the vomiting bug. His psychic imprint is on my right side, where his hard curly little head dug into my shoulder. These were my best times.

Of course, I got sick myself. There was the watered down Bert Flu I brought with me which lasted the entire ten days and which I still have although it paled into insignificance when I got the vomiting bug. I wasn't much use to Katy and family that day.

Another highlight was my three sightings of a Little Owl hunting on Sculthorpe Airfield. There were no photographs as it was dull and rainy on each occasion. I'd never seen a Little Owl in the wild before so it was much more interesting just to watch it rather than fiddle about only to end up with a mediocre shot.

And that is pretty much how I spent my ten days in Norfolk. Owls and babies, babies and owls. What could be better?

Two More Sleeps

Today was supposed to be a day of preparing for the Norfolk trip but instead it turned into a day of two breakfasts, a trip to Ballymena with Leitrim Sister and Yer Man and a lot of chillaxing in front of an open fire and a glass or few of Lidls finest (and cheapest) Merlot.

All I have to do tomorrow is get up early, buy the Saturday Guardian (still can't get used to new format but at least Stephen Collins is still there), tidy and water polytunnel, fill suitcase with stuff for Emily and James and perhaps find tiny amount of room for a couple of changes of clothing for myself.

It was good to spend an hour or so with Deirdre and Nick and I'm almost certain I told Hannah that they'd be staying overnight. She did get an awful shock when she charged into the spare room at daybreak looking for clean socks. She met Bert on the stairs up for his early morning old-man pee and asked "Who are those people in the spare room?" so perhaps I only imagined I told her.

Still, as I always say on such occasions,

At least nobody died.

Three More Sleeps

The next two days will be spent sorting things out, watering the polytunnel, leaving Bert instructions to keep things alive,

the hens
my sourdough mother
my chili seedlings

And packing. I have so many presents for James and Emily that there will be hardly any room for clothes for me. But not to worry, for Katy has a washing machine.

Then on Sunday, I leave for Norfolk and the start of a new journey when I fall in love with Miss Emily Anne.

This is the little person I will be meeting for the first time.

Curly Baps

It has taken me a little while to get back in the swing of things since my sojourn in England and London. I learned while I was away, that the capital and the country are actually different places* or, at least, so says LS who declared to me that she could 'never live in England' despite having lived in London ever since she graduated. Myself, I couldn't live in London but I very much love to visit it.

But first, there was Norfolk where I stayed with my daughter Katkin and her family. Master James was a delight, utterly obsessed with trains and other modes of transport but mainly trains. Unfortunately, he wasn't entirely well when I was with him - treated us all to a spot of projectile vomiting, a skill he has inherited from his mother. If it were an Olympic sport she could have been a gold medallist. Thankfully, she grew out of it and so will James.

And, like his mama, he has lovely curly hair. Apparently, it had been due for a trim but his parents decided to postpone it so I could enjoy his curls. I was reminded of my old friend Sheena who doted on children with curly hair and would often snip a keepsake lock with or without parental consent. It seemed a harmless hobby back then. No doubt, these days,  she'd have been prosecuted. Sheena would have adored our James.

Katy and James at Brancaster

*This might explain the Brexit vote in London where 59.9% voted to remain. Very much at odds with England as a whole.

The Visitors

Well, who knew? It seems that fun is definitely much more tiring than work. Katy and James arrived on Monday afternoon and we had an action-packed few days during which James did far, far more than anyone.

On Tuesday we all went to the Ulster Museum. That was a busy day. It was a child-centred visit which meant that there was building, painting and drawing to be carried out. James discovered that the art galleries were marvellous echo chambers and he made an awful lot of noise. I only noticed one person who minded. Surely anyone who visits the Museum in the Easter holidays should expect it to be brimming with children and, if they are decent coves, they should be jolly pleased about it. Martha and Evie are frequent visitors to the Museum and they had a wonderful time showing James their favourite places,

On Wednesday James went on a playdate to Martha and Evie’s house where I am told, he tore around the house like a whirlwind and then ate an enormous lunch. It seems he got on very well without his Mama as all well-adjusted boys should – for an hour or so at least. Meanwhile, Katy and I lunched and perused charity shops. I bought a straw hat for Bert, some wool for Zoe and a chiffon cloak for the girls’ dressing up box.

Yesterday, we went to Ballycastle, amused ourselves at the amusements, went to the beach, went duck-watching and all that before lunch. Lunch was outdoor fish and chips at Mortons where I made two new friends. One was a single-legged seagull and the other a very cheeky jackdaw who perched on my shoulder, sauntered down my arm and tried to eat my fingers. My grandchildren took all this in their stride as if it was the most usual thing for grannies to have tame jackdaws strolling about their upper bodies.

It's likely that the highlight of James' trip to the seaside occurred on the downward journey when we passed several miles of major roadworks. I don't believe the child had ever seen as much heavy plant in one place, ever. He looked left there were dozens of diggers and heavy tractors, he looked right - more of the same. He was entranced.

Tame stuff but at least he's in control

Today I got up at half-five and drove Hannah to work then went back to bed and slept until nine o’clock which was wonderful. James and I spent some quality time jumping in puddles, watching chickens, feeding cows, examining tractors and other assorted plant. We watched Sammy the Digger Man clean out a drain, then Clint spreading manure with his Davy Brown. For James there was no contest. Diggers are OK but tractors are his particular passion. It was a good morning. James and Katy lunched on Ulster Fries and then it was time to drive to the airport where I felt very sad to kiss them both goodbye. The plan is that I will visit Norfolk in October and, while I don’t expect Katy will have changed much (maybe just another few strands of silver curls), James will an inch or two taller and will have a much bigger vocabulary. Looking forward to it already.

Mary, James, Evie, Zoe, Hannah, Martha, Katy 2017

Rooster Attack

When a rooster flies at you and puts his spurs into your leg, you notice it. This fellow was a big heavy lad and he ruled the roost. I'm going to miss hearing him crow tomorrow morning. Blogged on 02/06/2015



This is Duke, our senior rooster. He was reared as a battery hen and turned out to be a male so, as our previous rooster had been taken by the fox (see above), we gave him a home.

He was a timorous fellow to start with but, as his confidence has grown, he has turned out to be one of the most vicious roosters we've ever had. I have to keep a tight eye on him when I go into the run. Tonight I forgot. The seven youngest chickens take ages to go into the house at bedtime and I was giving them a bit of encouragement or, to be honest, chasing them, when he came flying out of the house and launched himself at my right leg, at knee height.  I limped into the house to clean the wounds, both bleeding, where his spurs had punched right through my heavy jeans. My knee had already started to swell. Of course, I was raging and considered having Bert kill him, or leave him out in the woods for Foxy to find. It's not as if he hasn't three fine sons to take up rooster duty in the hen run. But,  then I relented for he was only doing his job, protecting his flock.

Hopefully, my knee will feel better tomorrow and I won't lose the leg owing to some filthy chicken disease. Then he gets to cock-a-doodle-doo for another while and we won't be eating cock-a-leekie soup for our Sunday dinner.

That was the bad news. The good news is that my latest sourdough loaf was a big success and my grandson James thought it was delicious. Sadly, no pictures of the loaf for it got scoffed far too quickly. All I can offer is this picture of James after spag bol and a bowl of yogurt. I wonder if he would like some chicken soup?

Every Picture: All Them Weans

This is going to be an easy post. All I had to do was go through my Friends and Family/General Family file to seek out these great pictures of me being a Granny.

Granny and Martha, 2011

This one was taken at the Ulster Museum by Hannah. Martha was aged around 18 months.

Granny and Evie, 2012

Photo credit belongs to Zoe. Miss Evie aged about 6 months. We were visiting Deirdre in Leitrim.

I was in Norfolk visiting my new grandson. James was only a few weeks old. Katy was the photographer.

Grandchildren are wonderful, especially when they are wee for they hide a multitude of sins. Held in front of a chubby middle they produce an immediate slimming effect and nuzzling their downy little heads is a super way to hide a double chin. I wouldn't be without them.

But sometimes things do not go according to plan. This photograph did not turn out as well as I might have hoped.

Martha and James were supposed to hide Granny's fat tum and they succeeded in doing so. James had the added task of helping to camouflage the grandmotherly double chin. But, as you see, he was at that wriggly stage and did not do his duty. Rascal!

P.S. I actually love the picture and James will be back in April so we'll give it another go. Strive for perfection. For me anyway. All them weans are perfect already.

Big Chubby Returns

12^th October

Had second cataract procedure at Mater Hospital, Belfast.

13^th October

Removed eye patch and could see perfectly. Threw away spectacles and started using reading glasses.

14^th October

Hannah and I flew to Stansted. Trains weren't running so had to get coach to Cambridge then train to King's Lynn. Did not get to Katy's until late. Baby James grown like gosling, still gorgeous and very smiley.

15^th October

Went to Hunstanton. Fierce wind blowing off the North Sea. Hannah sad she left her woolly hat in Ballymena. We found a sheltered spot and ate delectable Cornish pasties. Later on went for walk in derelict part of Sculthorpe air base.

16^th October

Went to Wells-next-the-Sea. Excellent second hand bookshop and we got to see the places where James' father played truant when he went to school there. Do hope that young James will pay more attention to his studies. Later on went for walk on Syderstone Common.

17^th October

Went to King's Lynn. Left Hannah to railway station as she was off home again. Went shopping for skeleton suit for James' first Hallowe'en. No luck. It seems that babies may only dress up as pumpkins in King's Lynn.

18^th October

Quiet day at James' home. James' other grandparents called. Much cooing and admiring took place.

19^th October

Went to Burnham Market. Shopped for London Sister's birthday present. If London Sister were town in North Norfolk she might well be Burnham Market. Went for lunch in Tilly's Cafe where all women present fell in love with James.

20^th October

James and Katy went to Music Event for babies and small children. James apparently slept entire time. I strolled around Fakenham and discovered shop selling battered chocolate. Not battered as in Mars Bar delicacy popular in Scotland, just slightly scruffy and sold for next to nothing. Apparently outlet for sweet factory that supplies Marks and Spencer and Asda. Glad we don't have similar in Ballymena or I would be dead from chocolate poisoning within month.

21^st October

Unlike previous visit when he screamed whole journey baby James slept all the way from Katy's to King's Lynn. Bid mother and child poignant goodbyes and started my journey. Was far too early and had to wait three hours at airport. Observed rude, unpleasant security person be nasty to everyone who stood in front of him. Thankfully got pleasant young chap myself. Had not got round to putting my eye drops in plastic bag and he was perfectly nice about it. Did not have to take my shoes off.

22^nd October

Bert had made an heroic effort to keep house tidy but it still smelt like ancient public house. Had no time to clean it as it was child-minding day. Evie and Martha were almost as delighted to see me as I was to see them. Evie got good child sticker from nursery and gave it to Bert. It was a lovely afternoon and we spent it on the trampoline, tree house and swing.

23^rd October

Removed vintage pub smell from house using vinegar, bleach and Zoflora. London Sister's birthday. Significant. My present and card arrived on time so quite pleased about that.

24^th October

Met Hannah and Ziggy and went for walk and catch up. She had noticed horrible security man at Stansted too. Jazzer and Ben came round for the evening. Had red wine, chili and chocolate.

25^th October

Amazingly, despite red wine, chili and chocolate, did not wake up with sore head. Caught up with my blog.

The End

Update From North Norfolk

It has been a week now and every day brings new experiences for Baby James. He received his first letter today addressed to Mr James Surname. Imagine! A Mr at under three weeks. In my day It would have been Master James.

I have been having lots of new experiences too, mostly to do with TV shows. I have watched, and for the first time, The Great British Bake Off, One Born Every Minute and Location, Location, Location and, I have to say, I enjoyed them all. That Phil guy in Location is quite attractive.

And I've got back into daily walks. This is something I must keep up when I get back to Ireland because it makes me feel so good. Of course, it helps that everything here is new to me. The wildflowers are different, there are far more species of butterfly to see. The roads are quiet and there are lots of off-road tracks and paths. Syderstone Common is a delight.

So what of Baby James? He'll be three weeks old tomorrow. Sometimes he is easy, sometimes not. He is growing before our eyes and his Mummy is very patient and loving. He seems to like her too. It will be hard saying goodbye to him but there is always Christmas. And thankfully there is social media. I'll get to see him grow up, if sometimes it will be at a distance. I will always be grateful for this time.