I think I know why I have lost my urge to write. It is because the real issue on my mind at the moment is one I am really trying not to think about.
Going back to work...
I am back in less than two weeks, and whilst I am looking forward to getting back into the journalism driving seat and letting the mum in me take a back seat, I am going to miss my little boy so much.
He is currently spending his fourth session with the childminder. Today he is there until 1.30pm. Each time he goes there his stay gets a little longer. Each time I have dropped him off, it seems to be getting worse for me - I thought it was meant to get easier. The last two times I have left him, I have ended up in tears on the drive home.
I think I am just realising that our year - the most amazing year of my entire life is coming to an end. Somehow it doesn't seem real.
I know what journalist Claire is like and I know what mummy Claire is like, but what will I become when are the two are combined - tired is one word that springs to mind, but will I be able to cope?
It's funny because this time last year I was gearing up for giving birth. The pre-eclampsia had kicked in - and every day the midwife was visiting to check my blood pressure. Five days later, after 18 hours of labour and an emergency section, two became three.
I can't believe Adam is one next Monday. We are having his birthday party on Saturday - which let's face it, is really for us adults. And I think myself an the joiner deserve a party - we have made it through the first year of parenthood unscathed. Our wee man is doing well and is coming on in leaps and bounds. His favourite word and animal in now cat, a word which also applies to the dogs.
I of all people know that I can't cling on to the past and I know that we have lots to look forward to. A beautiful house to build for a start.
However, I just wish that letting go and looking forward didn't provide me with such conflicting feelings - sadness and happiness - all at the same time. It's very confusing.
I still haven't got my writing zing back. I don't know what is wrong with me. I think about writing all the time, I always have done, since I began my diaries when I was nine years old. But for some reason at the moment I am finding it so difficult.
However, I have forced myself to write today as this month is probably the most significant month I have had since Adam was born last year.
For I only have one month left with my wee boy until I go back to work. And even that month is going to be interrupted with initiation visits to the childminder. I am not sure if these stints with her are to prepare Adam or to prepare me.
I am actually looking forward to going back to work. That surprised me as much as anyone. I have always loved my job, but I thought that being a mum would wipe that out. Apparently not - once a journalist, always a journalist and I am looking forward to getting my teeth stuck into some juicy stories.
However, I won't pretend I am not worried about the impact it is going to have on my family - there simply won't be enough hours in the day to get everything done, but I am sure somehow it will all work itself out and we will eventually get into a routine.
I am trying not to think about it too much - as I say it will all turn our right in the wash.
The other major milestone we have this month is that Adam turns one. My wee boy is going to be one. I can't believe it. I am delighted and horrified all at the same time. Where did this year go?
But then, when you look at how much he has developed over the year, it is astounding. He has gone from being this tiny helpless, pink bundle, to a robust little boy who can crawl, clap, blow kisses, pretend to be a red Indian, pull himself up on the furniture, feed himself fruit to name just a few of his achievements. He is truly amazing. A real credit to his parents - only joking.
So my year of being a full time mummy is almost over and whilst there have been the odd days which have tested me to the limits, I can safely say that it has been the most amazing year of my entire life. Thank you to my two favourite boys for making it just so. I love you both.
It was pointed out to me a few minutes ago - by my lovely dad - that I have not written is ages.
I am all too aware of this, but you see the thing is, I have lost my groove, and I can't get in the zone.
So much has been happening, that I think in some ways I have become a bit overwhelmed by it all, and instead of getting it all out on paper in the first place, I held it all in and now I am not sure where to start from again.
Here is a wee update going back over the last month:
Moved house, settled in new house, worried about cat, worried about Molly getting attacked by other dog in house, made phone calls to cancel loads of direct debits - joy, paid bills related to house move - boo, delivered furniture to friend’s house, celebrated Maria's birthday, looked after Adam who got ill, visited Laura Pollard, met the Arg, Adam puked in pub, had to take Adam to doctor at Laura Pollard's, I got ill at Laura Pollard's, came home early, had to stay with mum as was too ill to move...
Got better, looked after joiner who got same sickness bug me and Adam got, looked after Adam some more, took Adam to doc who said he was lactose intolerant, learnt about being lactose intolerant, worried about Molly who got attacked by other dog in house, went to Eden Court to see Ian Rankin, went to Eden Court with Adam for Wiggly Worm movement with your book!!!
Celebrated Kirsty’s birthday on a girls' night out to see Fame, found out about her new man, celebrated her birthday again with a curry, this time with the boys. Started to clear plot, Molly got stung by wasps whilst clearing plot, worried about her when her eye would not open, pulled ticks off cat who is now a country bumpkin, called vet to check Molly's eye which is now fine...
Sent e-mail to old pal explaining I had lost my urge to write, drank some wine, laughed at the joiner's mum who was going on her first caravanning holiday, tried to do painting with Adam, he wasn't impressed. Cleaned Molly who got blue paint up her nose, had mum and dad, Maria and Ski over for dinner to the farm, drank some more wine and watched X Factor.
Watched Harpers Island, bathed Molly as she fell in a sewer... yuck, did washing, packed bags for going to France, found passports, picked Adam's nose as it was full of hard bogeys, took call from garage asking if my Fiesta was okay, told them I sold it six months ago, went to Inverness to get Euros, laughed at dad who moaned about price of Euros, bought tights, bought salad, went for massage and manicure, ate tea and then blogged.
Off to France in the morning...... now wondering if I have spelt bogies right?!
Just a quickie - it's our last night here in Virginia Terrace. I feel sad, there have been some momentous moments here. Some of the most significant life events a person can have have happened to me in this home.
But most of all, I feel relieved. I love this house so much, I have said it so many times. But there is no doubt in my mind that myself, the joiner, Adam, Salem and Molly are making the right move. We are on another adventure together, and as long as we are together, we will be well.
My head is swimming and it is annoying me that my mind can't stop to cherish the good times here. My mind is like a butterfly only giving me a snapshot of everything that I have been through in this house - the good and the bad.
I want to say thank you to everyone who has helped me create memories here. The biggest ones for me - outside of course from it being my family's first home - are the parties - my favourite being celebrating Maria's 30th birthday here.
My other biggest look back is the day I brought Molly home. She was slipping and sliding all over the place.
But now, it's time to say goodbye. So long to Virginia Terrace, and au revoir to Nairn. I will miss it here.
The joiner is in hospital. It was very serious for a while, it is still serious now but he is on the mend. I can't be bothered to go into the ins and outs of it all. All I need to say is he has been there since Sunday and there is still no clear idea when he is coming home.
It all happened on our first weekend away together. Typical. The joiner had booked us a trip - two nights in a hotel and white water rafting. I ended up doing the rafting on my own and the rest of the time was spent in the hotel room sleeping.
It is times like this that you realise how important someone is to you. This time I realise that the joiner is not just important to me as my boyfriend, but he is our son's daddy. He has to be fit and healthy for him. There is no one more important than our boy and to him, at the moment, there is nobody more important than me and the joiner.
But I really love him. I am very open with him about how I feel, I am sometimes maybe too over the top, but I really do love him not with all my heart, but with my whole body. Cheesy I know, but it is all consuming.
In other news, I might as well talk about the fact that the house has been sold officially. It is all signed and sealed. We move out in less than three weeks.
I had not managed to find the time nor pluck up the courage to write about this - partly I think because once it is down on paper, I will have to believe it, and partly because I am actually not sure how I feel about everything.
The whole house is a mess.
Adam's room is the only room which remains intact - to a degree - his books have already been taken to where we will be staying and some of his toys already have a new home. It is in his room that I have to hold back the tears. Especially as now he is taking notice of the murals his Auntie Laura drew for him.
I sound disappointed - I am not. I am delighted that our plans are taking shape. I think I am just too tired with everything at the moment to take it all in. I am going through the motions without thinking about the emotion. It will come though, it always does with me - usually when I least expect it.
MOVING house and building a new one, I am starting to think is a little like being pregnant, labour and then giving birth with my solicitor being a little bit like the midwife - talking me through all the various options we have and reassuring me that it will, in the end all be okay.
Pregnancy is a scary yet exciting time - just like selling and moving house. You have taken the decision to do something so momentous and wonderful, but at the same time, it is frightening. It is to a degree an unknown the first time you do it, especially like us, when you don't actually have a solid house to be moving to.
You want to move, just like you want to have a baby, but the two things still come with their own worries.
Life as we know it will never be the same again.
Being pregnant in terms of selling houses is the part where you spruce everything up. You tidy the home, paint walls and make it saleable. In pregnancy, you look after yourself, you eat well, you try to stay healthy whilst the bloke does any practical jobs, like setting up the cot, painting the baby's room etc.
The next part is where we are at the moment and I liken this to the labour. There are a lot of false alarms and a lot of preparations to be done for the viewers, estate agents and solicitors.
The first stage of labour in the world of house selling is getting the offer, the second stage is accepting the offer and moving out and the third stage is the birth - i.e. moving in.
For us, the third stage is going to be drawn out - very similar to my own experience of having Adam. That took 18 hours - this, from when we submit the planning application to moving in will take around 18 months.
This silly comparison arose to me this morning, and whilst I don't want to count my chickens, it looks as though we may be getting two solid offers on the house, and now that it is happening, I feel a little... I don't know the word... scared, sad, happy, elated, excited, frightened. There are so many emotions bubbling away.
I am going to miss this house so much. I can't believe that this is actually all happening.
Very soon we are going to be leaving Virginia Terrace and we will be living at the farm, whilst we build our new family home.
I am not meaning to sound negative about it, that is not how I feel. I just feel a little swept away by it all.
Virginia Terrace has been my home for eight years. It has lots of memories, most importantly for me, that it is Adam's first home. I am sad that he will not remember the beautiful murals his Auntie Laura drew for him and it breaks my heart that his height chart which we created on one of the walls of his room and which we filled in so eagerly on his return from the hospital, will remain with this house's structure.
This house, which for so long, was just bricks and mortar, is now a home and that is all down to the joiner and Adam. This house now has a heart.
However, I know it will all be okay in the end. I know this, because everything I have done with the joiner has turned out perfectly so far. He is my lucky charm and with him around I can't ever imagine things going wrong.
Got up, ate breakfast before Adam got up, gave Adam banana and yog, put Adam back to bed, checked e-mails, put on washing, hung up washing, put on more washing, shouted at Molly for getting under feet. Played with Adam. Comforted Adam after he hit his face on wooden floor. Panicked when I saw blood. Relaxed when he laughed at Molly. Got dressed, got Adam dressed, fed Adam more food, changed Adam as food got on clothes. Got ready to go out, left Molly in hall whilst went to butcher to order meat for party, fetched Molly and met Angela for walk. Estate agent rang to book another viewing - TODAY. Panicked and wondered how I would get house clean in time. Shouted at Molly for running away and not listening. Picked up Molly muck. Went to mum's to feed rabbit and wonder if cat which has been missing for almost two weeks would be there. It wasn't. Left Molly at Mum's and anticipate she may get shouted at again when I pick her up.
Came home, fed Adam, made pizzas from scratch for girly lunch, made coffee for girls, put Adam to bed, finished off pizzas. Chatted with girls. Got Adam up. Cleaned upstairs whilst girls entertained Adam. Ate wedding cake. Drank more coffee. Girls left. Fed Adam yet more food and sat down for a ten minute breather. Put Adam to bed for nap, hoovered downstairs and hoped Hoover would not wake Adam. Wrote this blog.
I have four months and one day until I go back to work - where has the time gone? In some ways I can't wait to go back, in other ways, I am worried about it. I am not going to go into it all again, but put simply, when is everything going to get done?
Anyway, enough about that, our boy is changing everyday. In the last two days he has learnt to clap, and he has mastered giving me kisses. So cute and even more wonderful as it is only me he will give them to. Although some people may be thankful for that, as they are big open mouthed slobbery kisses that make him howl with laughter. Wow tears in my eyes just writing that. I am way too soppy.
He has also almost mastered crawling - but he can only do it backwards. Maybe I am also being one of those mums who is being a bit "my son is better than your son" as it is not exactly crawling - it's more of a worm type movement. I thought about getting him fitted with a rear view mirror, indicators and a button he can press that goes beep, beep, beep, when he is on the move. So far today and it has only just gone nine, he has whacked his head off the wooden floors, then he got his legs stuck round the foot stool, and this was followed by a mad backwards dash across the living room floor, the rug slowed him down a wee bit and he was eventually stopped when he got stuck under the sofa. Needless to say we have a lot of laughs, but I am already shattered and wondering if it is too early to hit the bottle so I can get through the day feeling a little numb and hazy! Only kidding.
We also have our house plans through and I love it - so excited about it all, now that I have something solid to look at. I keep getting them out and gazing at them imagining where all our furniture is going to go. We also have two house viewings this week, so that has to be positive.
We have two weeks until our big party too. A party to celebrate all our new beginnings, Adam being the most important one of course, I have written a speech, but I am not sure whether to do it or not. I will judge it on the day. The thing is, I cry even when I am just practising it. What has happened to me? I have always been sentimental, but this is ridiculous. I cry at everything. I suppose there is a lot going on. A lot has happened and is happening in a very short space of time. I mean how many people get divorced, find someone wonderful, have a baby, take a year off work, put a house on market, decided to build a new house and then go back to work all in the space of a year and a half?
When will it all calm down? I don't actually care - I love my life - I am lucky and if this rollercoaster continues, then you can be sure I will be on it, screaming to go faster.
As usual in my life so much and yet so little has been happening.
Last week me and the boy had the most horrendous time of it.
He cried almost constantly for five days solid, I cried a lot of the time too.
He was teething we think, although there is still no sign of the little blighters.
I was hormonal!!! Since I had Adam, that part if my life seems to have taken a turn for the worse. To be blunt, I have turned into a complete bitch and my thought process which usually leaves me a reasonable level headed person is blurred by a haze of hormones. I was nasty last week. I knew I was being nasty and I just couldn't help it. It wasn't a nice situation and I am already dreading next month. I think the joiner is too. If this continues, I will be making a trip to the doctors or the complimentary therapist to get some advice. I cannot go through that one week out of four forever. I just can't.
However, our week was rounded off by a beautiful Sunday which made up for the disaster that was Monday to Friday.
The joiner probably still in fear of his life in case my hormones kicked off came on a walk with me, the boy and Molly. It was much needed time together. The joiner has been working hard to offset the fact that I have no earnings at the moment.
So in the morning we went on a two hour jaunt which included breakfast at Basil, a little Bistro on Nairn harbour.
In the afternoon we palmed Adam off on a friend and got a free lunch at the new golf club at Castle Stuart. The joiner had been working there, and the owners asked us along so they could test the kitchens and waiting staff before it officially opened.
When you haven't got a lot of dosh, you would be a fool to sniff at a free lunch. It was a great day out. I don't know anything about golf, but the club certainly looked very impressive.
Generally life is good. I am frustrated that I have all this time on my hands but I have no money to actually do the things I hoped I would. I had big plans to visit friends and family all over the country, but to be frank, I am struggling to get the money together even to drive to Edinburgh to see my Granny and other family.
However, that is not stopping us throwing a party next month. I am not sure the joiner really gets it, but as we are planning on leaving this house soon, I felt the need to throw one last bash. I also wanted to do something for Adam in place of a christening. it's a kind of "Hello Adam, Goodbye Virginia Terrace Party."
So that's that, my life in a nutshell.
The boy is once again stuck on his front and is starting to gurn. This happens around 30 times a day and is very frustrating for both him and me. Better go before he really kicks off.
I will be back soon.
P.S Before I got to him to turn him the right way round, he did it himself. Big round of applause for my boy. Hip Hip Hooray.
I have been really slack in blogging. It's hard to keep up the momentum sometimes. So much yet so little has happened since I last wrote.
Our boy is growing at an alarming rate and this week has mastered rolling from his back to his front. However, he seems to have forgotten how to get back again even though he mastered this art a few weeks ago. He has not yet cut any teeth, but he is still managing to munch his way through a crazy amount of food. Prunes and lentils being his faves. Hippy.
In terms of the house - there is not much movement. We have had one viewing and the guy said he was going to put in an offer - that was almost a month ago now and we have heard nothing.
We have however seen our architect and should get our first house design through the post any day now.
In general life is good. Yesterday was spent drinking Pimms and watching the tennis, tonight I am going to a launch for an evening wear collection at my friend's shop and at the weekend we have a wedding dance.
However, the money for being a mum could be better - so much so that I have thought about going back to work early. I am missing work and I am looking forward to going back, but I hope that we can manage until November when our boy turns one. That seems like the natural time to be returning.
Anyway, my boy currently looks like a stranded tortoise only the opposite way round - he is stuck on his front and is about to kick off if I don't put him the right way round.
Will blog again soon.
I have had an amazing few days in the sun.
Friday and Saturday morning were spent getting the vegetable patch ship shape. I have to admit I had let things go. It's difficult to get across there with the wee man. He loves being outside, but that is not always easy when it is cold. But thanks to the great weather we have been having we spent two days over there, and I have to admit the patch is looking great.
The tatties, of which there are four types, are coming on nicely. The cauliflowers, now they are protected by some chicken wire and fleece are doing much better and the onions and garlic look marvellous. I even managed to get the beetroot in too.
On the Saturday, I roped my mum and dad in to help. The joiner was working and there is no way I would have got all the weeding, digging and planting done without their efforts.
On Saturday afternoon, me and the wee man passed the time in mum and dad's garden, then we took a little walk along Nairn beach where Adam had his first paddle in the Moray Firth He was not bothered, seemed to quite like the sand between his toes.
But I have to admit that whilst this was all great fun, Sunday was by far my favourite day.
We spent the afternoon at a secluded patch on the River Findhorn which the joiner used to frequent with his late step-father. I don't think I have ever had so much simple fun. What I mean by that is that all we had was a picnic, a couple of towels, the river and the stunning landscape to entertain us, but that is all we needed.
Swimming in the river was my favourite, especially as it meant that I got to take a dip with Molly who couldn't quite get her head round the fact I was swimming with her, in what is normally her territory.
The weekend for us was all about family - Adam at some point or another got to see all his grandparents, and on Sunday, the joiner took the day off to spend time with us. And as some wise old man recently told me - there is nothing more important than family.
THINGS are moving on a pace with the early plans to build our own pad.
I have mortgage appointments set up, an estate agent coming to do the necessary measurements and pictures to entice buyers to take a look and then hopefully splash out.
I have contacted a surveyor to start the ball rolling on the home report which by the way for us, will cost around £460. Not cheap.
And this weekend my mum and I are blitzing the house to get it ready for viewers. We will be cleaning windows, carpets, skirtings and floors. We will be sorting out cupboards and trying to de-personalise my home. Not easy for someone who has taken a billion pictures of her boy and who has about a million of them on display. As if I don't see him enough in person.
I also have packing boxes on order so I can pack away the stuff we don't use regularly. It's all go.
And so far, I feel okay about it all. I took a deep breath this morning when a letter arrived from the surveyor. In my head I uttered the words, "This is all really happening," It wasn't a morbid, I don't want to go for it type sentence, it's just I didn't expect things to be moving so fast.
However, I am under no illusion that things will continue at this pace. At the moment we are jumping through all the necessary hoops to get this house sold, but I suppose there will be a big lull whilst we wait for viewers and hopefully a buyer. The market ain't what it used to be.
The joiner has not really got involved at this stage. There is not much really he can do, however, every evening he has been tinkering away on the internet looking into ground source heat pumps and solar panels for our new house. I have been given the job of sourcing the best type of insulation. I have been told that the best is the sort made from sheep's wool. I have yet to find time to do the research.
The joiner and I have in theory secured ourselves a plot of land - the same plot I mentioned last year. Like last year, I am not - at the moment - going to reveal where the plot is. Call me cautious.
But as I say, we have in theory got some land. We need to secure the mortgage, which I don't think will be a problem, and we need to sell the flat which I can see being a big problem.
I love my flat. It is huge and has beautiful traditional features including three open fire places, deep skirtings and large cornices.
However, it is above a shop and I think that will put people off coming to see it. Our flat needs to be seen to be appreciated.
Apart from that very tiny concern, I am excited about the prospect of creating our own home from scratch. I know it will be hard work, but surely the end project will make up for all the heartache.
I want this to be our forever-ever house as I have taken to calling it. I want it to be the place where all my children are going to grow up. I want it to be the home they fly the nest from, and the home they come back to, to seek comfort, or show off girlfriends and boyfriends, or bring their friends to for the weekend. I want it to be our family home. I want to start measuring Adam's height on the door frame in he kitchen as soon as we move it, and chart it every year until he is too big for me to persuade him to do it anymore. I want to have my own vegetable patch and hens running around the garden.
I know it all sounds very idealistic, but why not? Why can't we attain that dream.
I wrote last year that the joiner's passion for building his own place is contagious. it has always been his dream, and now he allowed me to jump on board with him and we now have shared dream.
I am sad to be leaving the flat, it has lots of memories. Some sad, some very happy.
But my sadness is not a heart wrenching sadness, but a comforting, the time is now right sadness. It is time to move on and create something that is solely for our family. It is all about us and the future, and nothing to do with the past
It's hard to remember how crap I felt following my c-section, but I certainly wasn't bouncing around the house with a teddy in my mouth two days after it. Dogs are so resilient.
Molly is fine. I feel a little bit of a fool for getting so worked up about getting her spayed.
The night I brought her home was difficult. I almost burst into tears at the vets, but I managed to hold on to my tears until I got home. She was still drugged up and looked so sleepy and sad. She cried constantly and the only way she would sleep was if I lay with my hand on her tummy. She did that when she was a puppy too.
But the next day she was fine. In fact, if I hadn't put her on the lead to take her for her tiny walk, she would have bounced out the gate and along the High Street as though nothing had happened.
She also seems quite happy with me. I imagined that she might have shunned me for putting her through this ordeal and taking away her lady bits, but she really isn't all that bothered. I still feel guilty, but know that in the long run it is for the best - not just for her, but for the family too. The thought of trying to walk her again whilst she was in season, was just too much. She was just getting too frisky and sooner or later she was going to either pull me and Adam off our feet and wheels, or we would have had an accidental pregnancy.
I have said before how much me and Molly have been through together - now we share matching scars too. How silly am I, but I do feel I know a little of how her tummy must feel. At least though, I had an Adam for my troubles. All Molly has got is some TLC and plenty of pigs' ears!!
Molly is at the vets today. She is getting spayed. I feel awful. It took me all my time not to cry whilst in the consultation room. Silly I know, as it is a routine procedure and I know she will be fine. I also forgot to leave her with her frog and blanket. In my haste to get out of the room before I burst into tears, I simply forgot to leave them.
I just feel bad for her. The plan was to always let her have a litter or two, But at almost her fifth birthday I am still Living in a flat, and it is not ideal. The vet has said that by the time she is six - ironically probably around the time that we will have a garden - she will be too old.
I am also worried it will change her - I have heard stories that it can change their temperament and make them put on weight. I don't know if this is true, and was unable to get a straight answer from the vet - I suppose all dogs are different.
Molly is just perfect as she is. Don't get me wrong, she is not the most obedient dog in the world, but she does alright. She still runs around like a crazy puppy, and her nature is good. We have been through a lot together - she is part if the family.
Things are coming on a pace in the veg patch. Our tatties, onions and garlic are in and the latter are already starting to show signs of growth.
The greenhouse is all cleared out from last year's vines which had turned an interesting shade of yellow, and were all tangled and twisted. Jake himself wanted to do the tomatoes last year, so this year, I am winging it. I have got the grow bags in and I have rigged up a kind of string trellis, the tomatoes should they grow will be able to cling to. I didn't come up with that idea myself - I just copied what Jake had done last year.
We have also planted a raspberry bush and some cauliflower seeds. We still need to make some kind of protective shelter for them so they don't get eaten.
Still to go in are the peas, courgettes, sweetcorn, broccoli and beetroot.
In other news - we may be getting another lodger. We had one guy view last night, he seemed really nice, but we couldn't beat the offer a place in Elgin at £200 a month. However, we have another guy coming round tonight to have a look. We are in two minds about renting, but to be honest, we could do with the cash. Whist I love being on maternity leave, the pay for being a mummy doesn't quite cut it. The lodger will ease things considerably.
We have started on the vegetable patch again but this year we are doing it with heavy hearts. For the joiner's granddad who kept us right last year, and ensured we had a hefty crop of tatties, leeks, and onions died last week.
He had been ill on and off for a number of years and last week was him time.
But yesterday, in what me and the joiner believe is a fitting tribute to Granda, we spent the whole day weeding and then planting our first crops.
It was a blinding day, Adam lay on his blanket in the sun, whilst we dug, raked and planted. It was only when we got home after seven hours of hard labour that we realised we were sunburnt.
Some might say that Jake was looking down, knowing we wanted to get the patch looking good for him, and that he had a quiet word with whoever controls the weather to make sure we had perfect conditions.
We have planted four kinds of tatties, two types of onion and garlic so far. But more is planned.
It was strange day, I kept expecting Jake to come out into the garden and bark orders at us, or get frustrated at us because we weren't doing things his way. There were a couple of times when I rested my head on my fork and tears welled up just thinking of Jake and wondering whether he would be happy with out efforts.
I think the joiner needed the time too, we were very quiet all day and simply tended to out separate areas of the patch wishing Jake was there to remind us what to do.
I think we have done it okay. It looks good. Time will only tell when hopefully the veg starts growing.
There is something actually very poignant about planting crops in a tribute to someone. This may sound a little cheesy, but as our crop starts to grow, it will be easier to think of Jake. It is a living tribute.
I hope this year is even more successful than last year so that we do Jake proud.
Thank you Granda Harper for teaching me how to grow vegetables.
I have met an old friend. This old friend of mine used to be a regular part of my life, but then for a while we lost touch.
Now we have found each other again, and this recent meeting has put a spring in my step.
It is the type of friend that refreshes you, reminds you of the good things in life and always ensures you get a good meal.
My old friend is France. I love France, I always have and I always will. My family have been holidaying there for as long as I can remember. Most years I have visited the country at least twice.
But last year, due to having Adam I never got there and it really bothered me.
But now I have had my fix and I have vowed not to leave it so long the next time. In fact, the joiner and I are already planning a trip for September.
Now we have found each other again, and this recent meeting has put a spring in my step.
It is the type of friend that refreshes you, reminds you of the good things in life and always ensures you get a good meal.
My old friend is France. I love France, I always have and I always will. My family have been holidaying there for as long as I can remember. Most years I have visited the country at least twice.
But last year, due to having Adam I never got there and it really bothered me.
But now I have had my fix and I have vowed not to leave it so long the next time. In fact, the joiner and I are already planning a trip for September.
I visited France this time with mum, dad and the wee man. For Adam it was his first overseas trip. We were staying in my parents mobile home in a town called Pont-Aven in Brittany.
I just love it there. Life generally seems a lot more simple and for the most part revolves around food, wine, family and mealtimes. My four great loves in life too.
You have to love a country whose population actually bothers to take a lunch break. And I can't help admire the produce and the supermarkets either. Visiting the supermarket is an experience in itself. Can you imagine going into your local shop here and seeing live langoustine, crabs and lobsters? It puts us to shame. Everything from the spectacular cakes and pastries to the pates, cheeses and meats is presented so well. I am actually a little embarrassed that we get left with the likes of Tesco with its mass produced products which come in cardboard boxes! Or its vacuum packed shellfish! Why do the French make it look so easy, yet we find it so hard to produce simple, fresh food? I don't think I will never know the answer.
I just love it there. Life generally seems a lot more simple and for the most part revolves around food, wine, family and mealtimes. My four great loves in life too.
You have to love a country whose population actually bothers to take a lunch break. And I can't help admire the produce and the supermarkets either. Visiting the supermarket is an experience in itself. Can you imagine going into your local shop here and seeing live langoustine, crabs and lobsters? It puts us to shame. Everything from the spectacular cakes and pastries to the pates, cheeses and meats is presented so well. I am actually a little embarrassed that we get left with the likes of Tesco with its mass produced products which come in cardboard boxes! Or its vacuum packed shellfish! Why do the French make it look so easy, yet we find it so hard to produce simple, fresh food? I don't think I will never know the answer.
My group of five comrades (six including myself) are all different, but we share a common bond which means that over the last six months, we have grown closer and now I would count these lovely ladies as high ranking pals.
I found them at the parentcraft classes - you remember? The ones me and the joiner were dreading. The same classes that we thought were going to be full of either know it alls, pushy parents, chavs or those who simply wanted to keep up with the joneses.
How wrong I was!
The thing with our group is that I believe we are la crème de la crème of the Parentcraft class. We are the best little entourage there could be. All our babies are obviously of similar age, but they are all so different. Some are on solids, other are rolling over, some are pukey, others are sleeping through the night. Not one of the gang is a know-it-all and each mum allows the other mums to bask in their babies' achievements, even if their own wee one accomplished that same task yonks ago.
We are also very like-minded - we are all professionals and all of us are going back to work - some already have.
Our friendship started with a coffee after one of the meetings, then we all went on maternity leave and we met up religiously every Wednesday from then on. At first, it was a way of passing some time with like-minded people who were in the same boat. We were friends, but the talk was simply about being pregnant.
But as each baby was born, so did new dimensions of our relationships with each other and I am happy to say we are now firm friends. We have helped each other through bambino issues, even if we have not solved the quandaries, it is certainly true that a problem shared is a problem halved. But now our friendships have bloomed and we talk about all manner of things from wedding planning, sex and the hubbies, to relationship issues, and problems with the in-laws.
We have been on a night out together, we walk the dogs and took part in baby massage as a group. We have been swimming with the wee ones and gone to the "baby cinema" at Eden Court. Recently our adventures even saw us hitting the pub - in the afternoon -with babies in tow! A little bit chavvy, but it was a sunny day and why not?
After the first parentcraft class I wrote that I thought it wasn't really that helpful. I don't feel I learnt a lot from the sessions. However, where the Parentcraft classes have excelled is in providing me with a new group of mates.
I don't know where our friendships will lead. In an ideal world it would be great to continue to meet up regularly, as not only is it lovely for us, but it is great for our kids to have a strong group of mates. How perfect it would all be if they were still all pals when they were 18! However, it all sounds and bit sugary sweet and life isn't always like that. When we all start going back to work, it will be much harder to meet up. Our lives are gradually and naturally going to get more hectic.
However, I hope I am right in saying that even if the weekly get togethers fall by the wayside and perhaps turn to monthly nights out, or six monthly catch ups over a quick cup of coffee - that we will still all be there for one another even if it's at the end of the phone, or via text message.
Because one thing which I am certain about, is that if I didn't have this group of girls, the tail end of my pregnancy and this last few months with Adam would not have been half as easy and would not have been nearly as much fun as they have been. Cheers girls x
I Think about the ex everyday. Even now, almost two years since I found out about his affair. I don't think of him in a fond way, it's more of a "I can't believe that happened" kind of way. It usually happens when I am in the car. I do most of my sombre thinking in the car. After my granddad died I used to think about him in the car all the time. I would often weep on my way to work just thinking of things we used to do together. Maybe it's because I found out he had died when I was in the car? Morbid or what?
Anyway, I sometimes try and remember some good times that me and the ex had, but I just can't. I know there were some, but it seems that the enormity of what happened has somehow made any good memories disappear. Even my wedding day is hard to recall. I know it was a great day, I remember having sore cheeks from smiling so much, I loved my dress and the ex wore a kilt, but I can't actually feel any of it anymore. I am numb to it.
I try and remember what he looked like, or how we looked together and I just can't. It's as though someone has removed that part of my memory box. I know the memories are there but they are locked away.
I sometimes sit here and try really hard. I shut my eyes tightly and try to transport myself back in time to remember but it never works. Some images come back, but they come back in a dreamlike way. All swirly and blurry. They sometimes seem quite freaky - the ex looking clown like and being bawdy and garish.
I sometimes see pictures of the ex via facebook. I had the "pleasure" of seeing pictures of him on a friend's page recently and again he just didn't seem real. Was I really ever with him? Did that actually really happen?
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