Morning chats in bed

Our favourite time in the morning is when the kids come into our bed for a chat and cuddle before breakfast. 

Somehow, the topic of inheritance cropped up after Dan read a news article about empty homes. He joked:

"Mummy and I have it in our will that all our money will go to our favourite child."

Without hesitation, Jude (10) piped up: 

Yay!

We all roared with laughter!

When a daddy isn't well

This is the bit people rarely talk about. 

When a parent with young children has a debilitating medical condition, that has come on over time or suddenly, and the effects on the entire family.

Our 9 year old son burst into tears this evening, all of a sudden. I wasn't sure what triggered it but I knew he was feeling a lot. After gentle questions while my arm wrapped around him, I deciphered the puzzle. His daddy, who is recovering from Covid (we all are), was having his muscle spasms. A lovely but sad song had just played and our son just had all the feels in that moment.  Sadness, upset, drain, uncertainty, worry. 

When a parent becomes ill, roles seem to reverse a bit. Children become carers, sensitive to the needs of others around them. At first, I was really concerned. Wishing our kids didn't have to go through this at all, and thinking about how difficult it will be for them to cope.  After living in it for a while, I recognized that it might actually be our family's superpower, adopted out of necessity. 

I'm a firm believer in life experiences being a useful tool in later life, if and when others we know start to go through a similar experience. 

Navigating others through difficult life journeys, when you have no experience at all, is a minefield. 

I really appreciated when I could chat about cancer with friends who had been through it and who had lost their parent to this awful disease. So now, almost 6 years later, I've found myself supporting others as their family members steer and veer through their cancer journeys and otherwise. I feel more powerful because of my own valuable, valid experiences. Hopeful and confident that my friends know I understand a measure of what they are going through. 

Sharing is not easy, but as we go along, we need to share. It's essential for coping. Without a hand or a shoulder, we can dive blindly into choppy waters and feel helpless while trying to tread. Humans need each other. It's how we're created.

So from our little family to yours, please know we get you. We try not to dwell on the negatives but we choose to be open and honest about our experience, in the hope it helps another family. Let's all do this if we can. It can be quite cathartic. 

Chicken Bakes & Snow Days

Jude has just woken up. It's almost 9am and he doesn't know it yet, but it's a snow day today (in March).

In he comes for a cwtch and I ask him if he has looked outside. 

He looks out, gets all excited and as he leaves the room, he says "Yesterday and today have been really good days. Yesterday, I got chicken bakes in the freezer!" 🥰 Easily pleased. 

He's now getting dressed for snow. 

I think we've lost our 10 year old to snow this morning and I'm totally okay with that. Home ed can wait. 

Mindful Fireworks - a moment of clarity.

Half through my counselling sessions and feeling thoughtful.

I've recently been more aware of my high anxiety, and have take some steps to help myself through it. Medication is helping, makes it a bit more bearable, but it's not the answer. I am. 

Accepting help, being vulnerable and feeling in the moment are things I struggle with. Mind races, thoughts rewire, control fades and left breathless. Brain spirals and changes a good moment into a wobbly moment without notice. 

Feeling under pressure to keep up with others leaves me drained and balance is rarely my first port of call. 

Last weekend, I accepted a spontaneous offer of an evening out with friends, new and not so new. Miss T and I travelled over 40 minutes to a light sandy beach under a pink and blue blanket. We ate delicious chips, spent time with lovely company and good conversation. Fireworks lit the sky after dark and we enjoyed the moment with many families scattered on the sand. 

My phone is full. No memory of this evening but I thought "last session, I was reminded to live in the moment and let anxiety leave. Friends will take photos, I can always ask for a copy" so I did. I checked that my daughter was safe and nearby, my handbag was tucked in by my crossed legs, and I sat still... facing the pops of colour in the air, sand in my hands and peace in my heart. 

It was so good. I didn't stress about the carpet fittings, new extractor fan, moving day, heavy lifting, the carpark queue, the drive home in the dark, work the next morning. 

I just sat still. 

Need to do that more often. T had a great evening, loved every moment. I had a lovely time. This moment was a moment to remember. Simple, sitting still, feeling the moment. 

I'll come back to this post when I need a reminder, in the hope that I etch it into my mind for future reference.

In the moment. Mindful and possible.

Shopping with Miss T.

Had such a funny moment yesterday. Had to record it for future reading. 

T and I arrived at the Co-op to get a few bits. I got out of the car and went to the boot to get shopping bags out. 

T came around the back of the car and exclaimed "Oh you remembered bags!" and almost immediately (and completely incidentally) started singing "For the first time in forever" (song from the movie Frozen). I roared laughing 😆 She had no idea why I was laughing. I had to explain while giggling. The perfect timing. 

Love her, our fab almost 13 year old 🤣

Still not used to it.

I found this blog, looking lonely in drafts. 

Reading it gives me all the feels again. I've come a long way. It's now 4 years and 9 months since we lost Mum and I still have my moments, my memories and my meltdowns. There have been nights where I have sobbed myself to sleep. It's been a while since the last time that happened, but I remember being inconsolable.

One thing is for certain though, it hasn't been boring since 2017. 

We moved country with Grandad so he would have the best care and we would have a home closer to family too, losing Grandad unexpectedly 3 months later (at the ripe age of 100 years, 10 months) wasn't easy, a global pandemic followed, along with ill health, missing my Dad and our favourite people, my lovely husband was unwell and eventually was diagnosed with a debilitating and rare neurological condition, my Dad moving country (closer to us), I chose to change jobs as I'm needed closer to home now and we're still home educating,  which is going really well. 

It's been full on, silly busy but I feel stronger for it, so I want to share my hopes and my goals with you too. I'll let you in after you have a little read of my lonely draft:

"Feeling vulnerable is not something I like to feel. Last week, I felt so emotional and stressed about different things and on Tuesday, after the children went to school, I broke into tears. Wanting my Mum.
It's been 15 months since Mum passed away and while it doesn't weigh on my mind every second, thoughts of her come to mind pretty much daily. She was a good listener. Even if she spoke a little soon at times (I get that from her, I guess), she was really good at being there as a listening ear, giving practical advice and sharing a kettle. I really appreciated her in my adult years, more so after I gave birth to my babies.

To me, my close family are my security blanket, my go-to when I need a hug or a cuppa. Not wanting to be a burden is a big feeling for me but I'm thankful for them being there and not giving up on me, and hopefully not being disappointed with me."

To continue, I still feel similar but I have more life experience and self belief under my belt. Living in a new country, closer to my husband's family and now my Dad is living closer to us again - it all reminds me that:

1) my Mum isn't here and she'll be shocked when she finds out what we've all been coping with;

2) family truly is everything;

3) home is where my little family is;

4) we really can set up home anywhere and we'll be okay, we'll keep our great friends and we'll make some new great friends but noone will be replaced, it'll just be a little different (on that note, I really need to improve on my communication with friends);

5) most importantly, we can achieve anything when we put full faith in our best supporter, our Heavenly Father. 

Remember, family is everything. 

My hopes are that we find our new balance soon, including ways to celebrate the wins more often and exclude any worry or upset relating to unnecessary external pressures.  We do our very best with what limits we have. A resilient team. A force to be reckoned with. 

Little funny moment to remember in years to come

Yesterday evening, our son was playing in our bed, going under the quilt and shouting "sumbarine"...(yes, he is saying it wrong). I asked him to go and get a book so I could read to him before bed.

He quickly replied "I can't, I'm under water!" 🤣

It happens when I'm gardening...

(Wrote this last weekend... )

I have started gardening as a form of personal therapy. It's working out well and hasn't cost a fortune... yet...

But I have noticed that memories come back to me while I'm gardening. Still to decipher if that's a good thing or not. It might be.

Two days ago on Thursday July 19th 2018, I was at work, planning ahead and checking the calendar. I spotted the date and thought "why is this date ringing a bell?" I couldn't figure it out at all and I never thought to ask anyone.

Had a lovely busy day yesterday at a family wedding. Beautiful day, Friday July 20th... still couldn't figure out about the day before. 

Today, Saturday July 21st, I'm digging a border in my back garden. Hopes and dreams are swimming around in my head... and it dawns on me. July the 19th, Thursday this year in 2018, was Wednesday last year in 2017... the day we followed my Mum's coffin in the hearse, Garfield too, down the dual carriageway, through the Jack Lynch tunnel and towards the crematorium. Garfield was the cuddly toy we didn't need anymore. Mum got a kick out of its goofy face and big eyes, Garfield kept Mum company in her hospice room for her final weeks and was there when we went to say goodbye, the last time. The memory of Garfield is one that lightens the mood, puts a smile on my face but also gives me that feeling of finality. In order to move on and mourn the loss of Mum, I'm glad we let Garfield go with her on her final journey.

In a way, I'm grateful the date didn't stick. It may not hold much significance in the future either. And yet, the day passed by quietly - another first for my family and I.

The welcome distraction this week - my cousin's wedding - is significant, however. Much better to focus on the positive of July 20th 2018. A happier occasion where our family once again reunited and bonded. A day I hope to remember more often in the years to come and may well do so if I keep up my gardening therapy 💞

Trying to stay positive can be as easy as 1-2-8

Some days, positivity is just not in our makeup.

On my low days, I gravitate towards inspirational, clichè quotes and some positive scriptures to find some peace in my own feelings and situation.

Life without tears will be well-overdue for many but bang on time for everyone. And I long for it myself, both impatiently and patiently. Such a contradiction, but I mean - while I wait, I know I can hold on for longer and sometimes I really don't want to wait, because reality sucks so often.

My work life has order. I have systems in place and routine is golden. My home life has order in parts and requires more order, mainly in our minds. We fill our time with friends, family, spiritual activities, work and our energy gets sapped with joyous things, but our energy gets sapped... A customer at work recently mentioned "this rat race" and it's true. Some weeks, I can't breathe for the housework - the laundry, the dishes and the clean clothes that need to be put away because we've all been busy throughout the week.

I want to decorate. But general cleaning and tidying the same places each week/day takes up my free time. School holidays may or may not give the opportunities I desire. And there within lies an issue. I desire a clean and clear home. Less stuff in our home so we have less stuff on our mind. A simple life is craved. One where our keys, wallets and coats are exactly where they can be found before walking out the door. One where a bed is made daily, the carpet is regularly vacuumed, the room looks clear and inviting when we return to it each night. The one where my family feel happy and content in. Soon.

(I typed this in June. Still applies and I'm decluttering again)

The voice on the answering machine

I knew it was there. The message. I avoided checking new messages because I didn't want to upset the machine. Myself.

Tonight, I played the messages because I realised I should check the 3 others that were definitely different people. And then I let it run to message number 4. And 5. And 6. And I forgot about number 7.

Mum.

Message number 4 is my favourite. She apologized for something that was no issue at all but lovely to hear her say sorry, a rare and endearing moment if you were blessed enough to know my mother.

I've been missing her like crazy these past few weeks and it can bring tears to my eyes at the strangest times. Grief knocks on my door when I least expect it. It's not a weakness. It's a part of my life chapter without my mum. She passed away 8 months ago yesterday and some days I am at peace with it. Other days, I'm really not too happy about it all. Memories about flaws, criticisms and insecurities are overshadowed by memories of her kindness, generosity and wise practical advice. There is so much I miss about her presence and we talk about her regularly in our home and life, so we keep her close to our mind and heart.

Message number 5 and 6, I can tell she was sounding low and tired, not herself. She tried very hard to keep positive and upbeat, but some days she just couldn't fake it with family and we'd see her fold. That broke my heart when I knew she was struggling and I couldn't do much to help her with that, only listen and try to comfort her. I had no preconceived ideas of how life would be like without her because I was really hoping it would take a very long time to get there. 20 months was too short. A good thing and a not so good thing all in 1. I guess it was also a good thing for her not to suffer for long, not so good for us because time became so precious.

We will see her again. The waiting game is real and not easy but it is so reassuring to have faith in her coming to life again in the near future, and being without pain and suffering ever again.  I won't need the voicemail messages. We'll have her back with us. Cancer-free. Multiple Sclerosis-free. Pain-free. Worry-free. Free.

A new life is just around the corner.

Not to be a taboo - Miscarriage

Something a friend wrote recently reminded me of this... I started to blog because I wanted to note anecdotes, update family/close friends but also to address and express my feelings, my experiences. Perhaps how I'd imagine a kind of therapy.

I realized that I haven't really opened up about one of my experiences: Losing the chance of being part of a new life. Losing my first baby.

Not to depress or turn all morbid years later, I just never really addressed it properly and I feel if I do it now, it would be 'out there' and perhaps I can feel closure and relief and move on. 

I wrote myself a note not long afterwards, while it was fresh. I haven't reread it nor have I searched for it. It's just somewhere safe. For whenever, if ever... At the time, it helped. So as I move forward, this may help too!?!

I cannot imagine how it must feel, for a parent to lose a child after time - meeting and spending time with them 'on the outside'. 

I only knew for 3 weeks about the little somebody developing in my womb. It was a surprise, okay, a shock and we took a few days to register the changes and possibilities that may arise. It didn't take long for the excitement to filter through and the planning to commence.

Our 6 week scan showed a good heartbeat (albeit a little hard to find initially, my brain tells me that could be a sign, but I have heard good stories from other friends since so please don't read into that if you have a similar moment). I told my manager at the time, as I worked with boxes of stationery, climbed ladders and lifted heavy archive boxes full of files. I changed the way I did things in work, delegated, without telling colleagues about my pregnancy. I wanted to keep it a secret for a little while longer. Then one day in work, I discovered I was bleeding. Rushing into my manager's office, I said "Something's happening, I need to go to the doctor" and left. My GP was only a few doors away. The rest is a blur. I know I went to the maternity hospital, I know they couldn't find a heartbeat but tried to reassure me that it may well be the useless scanners in the ER. They told me to come back to the Fetal Assessment clinic the following morning, first thing. I didn't feel right. I nervously went to bed. I woke in the night and knew I was losing my baby. Didn't realize I'd be losing a little part of me.

The next few hours were tough, cramping etc. My husband and I still went to the Fetal Assessment clinic for 8am. They did a scan. We were in a room full of people, only thin curtains separating us. I sat there, waiting for someone to come and talk to us while listening to heartbeats of other babies, a mother chattering to a nurse about how she was 33 weeks pregnant and worried about the lack of movement. Her worries fluttering away as she cooed at the sound of their baby, absolutely fine. While a blurry person came to see me to confirm that I'd miscarried overnight. I was handed a leaflet and told I could leave when I was ready. We waited, and then walked through the opening of the curtain surrounding us, past all the other curtains with our dream behind them.

A little private room would've been kind. Didn't have to take up much square footage. Just enough space to swing a leaflet at a wall. 

When I told my manager, she was very supportive, though she didn't really know how to react. I had the rest of the week off to rest, and that was that. Back to life.

That's the thing. We don't know how to react to life experiences we haven't personally been affected by. I cannot stress enough how little I knew about miscarriage until I experienced it myself. I didn't even know quite a few of my friends had lost their own babies until I mentioned my loss MONTHS AFTER it happened. 

I shut it out, keeping it quiet. Why?! It only hurt me more. Why couldn't I just be open? Perhaps it's because of the "just in case", we seem to naturally keep pregnancies quiet until 12-14 weeks. The "safe" second trimester. Perhaps it's because we don't wish to upset ourselves or others if something bad happens. Even so, if we wish to keep it to ourselves, that's okay, we're entitled. But we still need to speak out. Miscarriages and stillbirths shouldn't be unspeakable. We need to express ourselves. Noone needs to feel like they're alone in experiencing such loss. It's troubling when we close our minds and hearts to such emotional events. Our mental and physical health suffers.

Friends have said they didn't know what to say or were worried they would say the wrong thing, after they heard the news. This happens. 

People asked me "are you going to try for a family?", "are you pregnant?" when I wasn't and really wanted to be. We would be wise to be selective with our words and expressions, however, saying something can be sweeter than saying nothing. Failing that, meaningful hugs help. 

It is true, that life goes on. I used to think "I could have a (enter baby no. 1's "could've been" age here) year old". I haven't forgotten that time in my life, May 2008. It triggered anxiety attacks and lack of self-worth issues like you wouldn't believe. However, now I can comfortably and proudly say "I have a 7 year old and a 3 and a half year old". Let's face it, they wouldn't be here if I hadn't lost our baby no. 1. 

My eldest often comments how she is my first baby, and whilst I agree with her, she's my first babe in arms, one day I would like to tell her about how she got here in the first place. The story about the one that got away, making sure we include the part that we're very grateful that we had the opportunity to try again and succeed in having her and her little brother. If she's ever to experience a loss like ours, I want her to know that she'll be okay, it will happen while we have these imperfect bodies and we can talk about it whenever she likes. Miscarriage is not a taboo subject in our family. 

A song I found and love...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5-_DIvPpxwA&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Feels so familiar...

"I Knew This Would Be Love" - Imaginary Friend/Future feat. Kina Grannis

It's funny how we met on the telephone
You and I on the edge of the unknown
Oh, in only a moment's time
I knew my heart was yours and yours was mine

When I saw you waiting at your place
Something felt familiar in your face
Oh, you smiled as if to say
I knew my heart was yours from the first day

CHORUS:
We were right
We stood through it all
Holding tight
Whenever we fall
What we found is second to none
I knew, I knew, I knew this would be love
I knew, I knew, I knew this would be love

There were days when I thought I'd lost you
I read the letter aloud, what could I do?
Now, we're right back where we belong
Don't second guess your heart, it's never wrong

CHORUS

I knew, I knew, I knew this would be love
I knew, I knew, I knew this would be love

Only child syndrome and a little bit of gushing

I'm an only child. Fourth generation in fact. I didn't wish to continue the line of only children in our family. I always felt that if I could have more than one, I would like that very much.

Being an only child has its great advantages and I have loved many aspects that are associated with having my own space, growing up and having my family to myself. But as I grow older, I find being an only child can become one large and lonely place at times. 

It's interesting how my Mum, my Grandad and myself have different views and experiences - I observe my husband interacting with his family, my own children interacting with each other and I often crave that bond. Dear friends help to fill in the gap and my husband's family are fantastic too, they took me in as their own quite quickly. 

At moments like this though, the time when cancer corrodes my family's life as we know it, I could do with someone close to share concerns and plans with. That familial bond. My cousins have been lovely, sad part is that some have experienced similar already. One cousin in particular expressed something I will never forget - Cousins are a sibling from another parent - she understands my worries and feelings, though she may not realize how much that resonates with me and I love her even more for being available and caring enough to listen and talk.

I almost lost my Mum two weeks ago. She had two seizures, was rushed to hospital by ambulance and entered the ER in a coma. It wasn't a bad way to be - she slept through it all and felt nothing. Like us, totally numb. 

My Dad became a real life hero to me in that moment. He'll probably brush that statement off with a wince and a cheeky comment reaching the air but that weekend, along with the ambulance medical professionals, he really did assist in saving a life. Not many Mikey Joe Soaps can say that. He saved his wife, my mother, my grandfather's only child.

The aftermath has been tiring and emotionally draining, yet eye-opening and inspiring. 

We're not out of the woods. Mum's cancer has reduced in the main areas of her body, however it has spread to her brain, Small and scattered tumours, causing the seizures and adding to Mum's already busy schedule of hospital visits and treatments. Quite frustrating as this happened in the middle of her well-deserved break from chemotherapy. 

Mum is on a cocktail of medication, undergoing a fortnight of radiation, but we're not without good experiences and hope.  Doctors, nurses, friends, colleagues and solicitors have seen the positivity ooze out of my family. We've never been so open and comfortable with each other before. 

Simplifying life has become a shared focus. 

We don't feel like we're doing it on our own strength either, feeling the presence of our Heavenly Father and his "hands" on our shoulders, and sometimes behind our back, helping us through the tough stuff. 

Yes, it really would be a lovely thing to have a sibling to share this surreal experience with. That big brother dream I used to have. I mentally adopted family during my young teen years, and they've proved to be the kind of family I can open up to and rely on over the last few years. Two weeks ago, when Mum's breathing was so weak and a well-meaning doctor expressed that it would be wise for us to make our phonecalls, I spoke to my "big brother" over the phone, he and his lovely wife (my "big sister", Mum's close friend) were there at the other end of the line, albeit in a different country, but we were all connected. It felt like they were with us.

I have my supportive best friend/husband, my strong grandad, kind cousins, extended family, in-laws and generous friends to keep me going. And my dear lovely parents are ever present. My Mum is still here. Perhaps we are all grasping onto our pockets of precious time with more oomph than we did two weeks ago. If true, let that be so. This family is all I have and need. And I feel very blessed and grateful.

   

Memories

Every so often I come across a note, with a funny joke or a quote. I forget to record them elsewhere.

Here's one:

Teagan was going through a phase of asking us to clap when she did something cool or good. So after I finished painting with her, I got off the chair and said "can you clap please?", she replied "I want to do something else, I need a wee, THAT's something else!" - Aged 3 and 2 months, 05/11/2012 @ 14:26

Life with our boy...

Finding trails of water from the bathroom to bedroom, with an almost full watering can at the end of the trail, beckoning for shoes to be put on and gardens to be played in (this morning's example);

Being woken up at 3am, Daddy comes to the rescue, only to find out that a new toy fish (bought only that morning) has just fallen into the dark black hole (AKA the side of the bed), and son is absolutely beside himself with grief and worry;

Hearing the words "Mummy, where's my bubbles? You have to dip dip, get a big breast and blow" - Jude, aged 3 years, 1 month + 12 days;

Requesting that he holds your flowers while taking a photo of them and him... Result: a cheeky smirk and a pink tongue. Can't take a camera seriously. Just like his mother.

Just a few reasons why I adore having our little boy around.

Good girl Mummy

The bathroom door opens as I brush my teeth this evening. Jude walks in and smiles "You a good girl Mummy! You had your shower?!"

"Yes I did."

"Oh good girl. You put Dora on now?" He puts his hand out and reaches for mine.

I feel used. And slightly amused.

PS. Dan came home from work late tonight and went to kiss the sleeping babes goodnight. In the dark, a little boy voice said "Oh it's you, Daddy!". Love him.

Just like Daddy

Hubby went to the bathroom this morning. Son (age 3) wandered into our bedroom and climbed onto the bed. "I want to sleep on this side", pointing at his daddy's vacant side of the bed.

As he burrows under the duvet, I asked him if he was going to be Daddy for a few minutes. He nodded and then exclaims with a gruff little voice "Where's my phone?"

I love his humour.

They say it's child's play...

Sometimes the children play games on my phone. And that's okay with me as long as the phone is on flight mode (past experience taught me that! "NOOOO! Not the Pay button!!!!!"). I only have 3 games on my phone and a colouring app.

The games I have:
1. 'Tap the Frog' - great fun, good for hand/eye coordination.
2. 'Fish farts'  - it has a "gas" concept (goofy pun, sorry. The Irish meaning of the word GAS is "hilarious/funny"), good for hand/eye coordination, makes certain noises as you catch the fish...
3. 'Cut the Rope' - this is a bit more advanced. The better you do, the more challenges you unlock. My almost 3 year old loves this game. This is more about planning and completing tasks, good game for adults and children.

The games are good but hard for two to share, they can't really share the screen at the same time, they often try and end up having screaming matches instead... So last night before bed, little miss T and I taught little master J how to play noughts and crosses (or X's & O's, as some prefer to call it) on the colouring app. They both loved it. For the most part.

One little person is such a sore loser and sulks in their bedroom whenever they lose. The other little one does what we suggest, in saying "Well done!" to the winner, giving a high five and seems really happy about it, doesn't mind losing. This realllllllly winds up the sulky little person. We have the same conversations each time - even reminding them not to gloat/boast when winning while they gloat! The same conversations. Sigh.

Hopefully they'll figure it out soon. Still, it amuses me how different they are!

Pink chalk and blue cheese.

My vegetable soup - Nigella/Jamie, watch out! :D

So I was looking up some recipes today as I wanted to use up some kale. Initially thinking of potato and kale soup, but then changed my mind and opted for a simple 'what have I got in the fridge/cupboard?' sort of soup. Made my own version and if I may, I found it quite tasty and want to record my recipe somewhere...

In 1 pan, I prepared 50g of red lentils. 1 part dried red lentils to 5 parts boiling water. I washed/rinsed the lentils in cold water first, then added the 5 parts boiled water into the pan and brought it to the boil for 7-10 minutes. Letting it simmer for 30 minutes.

In the meantime...

6 potatoes, peeled and chopped
2 carrots, peeled and chopped
1 parsnip, peeled and chopped
1 big handful of kale, roughly chopped
2 cloves of garlic, peeled and chopped 
chicken stock
about 6 sprigs of fresh thyme (without stems)
approx. 1 tablespoon of dried basil
approx. 1 tablespoon of dried rosemary

All in a large saucepan. Brought it to the boil, added the lentils and then simmered for approx. 20 minutes until the vegetables were soft.

I added a pinch of salt (couldn't find the pepper, would've added...)

Then blended in the blender and VOILA! Simples! Really hearty and tasty with some crusty bread.

Stow away duck

Away from home tonight (short story = 2 weeks of no car, back to work tomorrow, Mum to the rescue), I opened my washbag and look who stowed away! (See attached photo) Always a parent, even when child free for an evening. It's like when I go to work and find a pack of babywipes in my handbag or a spare nappy in my jacket pocket...

Staying overnight at Château Grandad. I love spending time with him before bedtime. We chatted about all sorts, including pets and penpals, then I sorted out his freesat channels and we watched a gorgeous documentary about sea life before saying goodnight. And after retiring to the spare room, I sit in bed, the room reminds me of Grandma and I love it. No sadness, just hopefulness for the future and fondness of the past. Grateful for family ❤

- Is. 33:24; Ps. 46:1 -