“What’s this?”
“Wait a second…!”
“Yogurt?”
“You try, mummy!”
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| Shoulder ride . |
The happy hikers
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She ain’t heavy…
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Our little gnome…
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| Merry Christmas… |
Grandpa Ed
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Serving the Melton Mowbray
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| January 31, 2004 I’ve just finished a terrific novel by a woman called Siri Hustvedt, who is the novelist Paul Auster’s wife. The book was called “What I Loved” and was a beautifully crafted story of a friendship between an art critic and artist that spanning over twenty years, and incidents that rock their families. The last third of the book revolves around the artist’s son and a murder in the club/art scene he’s involved in. As the incident unfolded I realised that I recognised it from an article I read in Vanity Fair a good fifteen years ago. Every detail that she added reinforced this feeling of familiarity. Reaching the end of the book, I noticed there was an acknowledgments section. I imagined she’d explain that she’d based her plot on this crime, but to my surprise she went to the trouble of stressing that all the characters were entirely fictional and any similarities were coincidental and so on. A five minute search on the web brought up any number of articles about the original incident, which turned up even more similarities than I’d remembered. There’s no way it could be a coincidence, and I’m puzzled as to why she didn’t acknowledge it…Went for dinner at Trevor and Marni’s this evening. We inflated Nova’s little purple bed and settled her in their bedroom when we arrived. They served cheese fondue. Trevor’s been working in Geneva a lot and has developed a taste for it. Along with the bread, they set out mushrooms, new potatoes, and tomatoes for dipping, which made it more of a meal, and less eating a large hunk of cheese for dinner. I always enjoy going round there, and surrounding myself with Canadian-ness for an evening. Drank too much red wine though… |
| January 30, 2004 Conducted some egg poaching experiments with the microwave this morning. I buttered a little plastic cup, cracked an egg into it, set the microwave to 30 seconds, and hit start. It started promisingly, but at about 20 seconds the egg exploded, spraying the roof and walls of the oven with specks of egg white. The remainder of the egg that was still intact was perfectly edible, if a bit tough… Not one to quit at the first setback, for my next attempt I tried carefully piercing the yolk with a sharp knife. We followed the egg’s progress closely through the window. It didn’t bubble so enormously this time, and within 25 seconds produced a perfectly poached egg. (The toast popping up while we were watching gave us both a start though…) I went to the gym for a workout while Adam spent the morning with Nova. After lunch, I dropped round Pascale’s to give Adam an opportunity to work. Running a few errands in the village before returning home, I noticed a solitarly haggis in the butcher’s window. I decided to buy it to eat with the swede we bought last weekend before we discovered Waitrose was out of haggis. Weirdly, we seem to have misplaced the swede. I went through the larder cupboard and fridge a couple of times and Adam scoured the car, but there was no sign of it. We definitely bought it, because it shows up on the grocery bill. Ate the haggis with mashed potatoes and squash in the end. Nova chose Maisie’s Best Friends for her bed book this evening. The story shows Maisy doing different things with each of her friends: Charlie is Maisie’s shopping friend, Eddie is Maisie’s gardening friend etc. On the last page, Maisie is playing with all her friends, and the text asks, “Who’s Maisie’s best friend?” Before I get a chance to read “Everybody!” Nova always says, “Charlie” in a definite tone of voice. After we finished the story I asked her, “Who’s Nova’s best friend?” wondering whether she’d say Ruby or Fay. “Mommy,” she answered. Bless her…
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| January 29, 2004 Highgate was covered in a thick layer of snow this morning. After breakfast I bundled Nova up in her outdoor gear and took her outside to play in snow. That lasted all of five minutes… “No snowman — go inside!” she said firmly when I suggested building a snowman in the veggie patch. I hope the Canadian authorities don’t hear about this — they might revoke her citizenship… In the afternoon I cut out pictures from magazines and Nova made collages. She doesn’t really have the whole gluing concept down. She’ll “colour” on the paper with the glue stick, then try to stick the pictures to spots she hasn’t glued. When I suggested putting glue on the piece she wanted to stick down, she’d invariably glue all over the front of it instead of the back. Once she did manage to stick something down, she usually glues over the top of it for good measure. It was good fun though, and she produced some weird and wacky combinations. Came across an absolutely addictive word game called Bookworm on the computer, and played for a couple of hours before bed. I couldn’t even tear myself away to watch Law and Order, even though it was one I haven’t seen before. |
| January 28, 2004 It was a colleague’s birthday this week, so we all trooped off to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese pub in Fleet Street. In this case, the Ye Olde is an accurate description, not an affectation. The pub was rebuilt after the great fire of 1666, and there was a tavern on the site a few centuries before that. My roast vegetable Wellington was nothing special (although the people who ordered the roast beef raved about it). The puddings were all those ones that the English rave about and no one else can understand their enthusiasm: bread and butter pudding, steamed pudding, jam rolypoly, spotted dick, all drowned in custard of course. The atmosphere was great though: dark, low ceilinged and candlelit, with an open fire blazing away.On the way out, I noticed a parrot (or an ex-parrot I guess) in a glass case. This was Polly the pub parrot, who was renowned for her abusive vocabulary. Apparently people travelled great distances to see her in action. When she died in 1926 after an extended illness, her death was reported in over 200 newspapers and on the BBC. They actually had a number of the clippings on display. This evening as Nova and I were walking up the hill from the nursery, the much heralded Canadian weather finally arrived. One minute it was clear, the next we were in the middle of a blizzard — possibly the first true blizzard I can recall. The snowflakes were tiny, but there were so many of them, and the wind was swirling them about so much you couldn’t see more than a foot or two in front of you. Lightning was flashing (though you couldn’t see it with all the snow) and thunder crashing right behind it. It was magical. Nova wasn’t impressed, and got increasingly whiny the colder she got. “Oh dear!” she cried, “I got snow on my boot!” A few minutes later, “OH DEAR!!! Mommy’s got snow on her HEAD!!” By the time we stumbled through the front door, we were both completely coated in snow from head to foot — we looked like we’d been rolled in powdered sugar. We stripped off our wet clothes, changed into our pyjamas, and drank a cup of hot chocolate together before I got started on dinner. Nova did a big poop in her bath tonight. Adam didn’t notice it at first because he was on the phone (and I think the bubbles masked it). I wondered briefly if she’d got the idea from Ruby, but I don’t think so. She was quite upset about it, and needed a fair bit of consoling. |
| January 27, 2004 I’ve got back into running again this week, after a week off due to sickness and sheer laziness. My goal for the moment is to reduce my 5km time under 30 minutes. The Victoria Marathon closes the course after 5 hours and any runners still out there have to finish their run on the sidewalks, obeying traffic signs etc. (I think you also have the option of starting a couple of hours earlier than the faster runners.) If I’m going to go to the trouble of running 26 miles I’d like there to be a finish line there for me to cross when I am done. There’s a table in Galloway’s marathon book that predicts your marathon time based on how fast you run 5k. According to him, you need a 5k time of 29 minutes to be able to run a 5 hour marathon. He’s talking about how fast you’d run 5k in race conditions, whereas I’m just incrementally increasing my jogging pace. I’ll likely enter a 5k fun run later in the year and see what kind of time I get. Went round to Rob and Jemima’s for dinner this evening. We brought Nova’s inflatable bed and settled her in their room when we got there. It was no surprise to discover that Jemima is one of those effortless cooks. She produced a delicious three-course meal without any evidence of muss or fuss: steamed artichokes with garlic mayonnaise, a Moroccan chicken dish with couscous, and a delectable little pot of toffee sauce, apple compote and cream garnished with sugared coriander leaves. Home about midnight. |
| January 26, 2004 I decided to work at home today, like I’d intended to do last Tuesday. Put on a load of laundry and reduced the mountain of ironing to a molehill before settling down in front of my computer. Adam was working at home as well, so we met for lunch and made a big salade niçoise. Bit of a nothing day… |
| January 25, 2004 I embarked on my churchgoing adventure this morning. In principle, you are supposed to bring your child along so they can get the all-important Sunday school attendance mark, but we’ve booked Nova into a series of Sunday swimming lessons that clash with church, so Adam and Nova headed off to the Archway pool and I went on my own.The first person I ran into was our neighbour Jenny, who was setting out the coffee. She pointed out that I needed to have Nova with me to sign her up for Sunday school. “She’s sick,” I lied automatically. “No she’s not, Adam’s taken her swimming,” she said. What a great start… The church was packed with single parents accompanied by two-year-old children. I saw Rob come in and waved him over. It was very noisy, and even once the vicar started his sermon, it was hard to hear over the chatting, shuffling and squeaking of pews. The first part of his sermon was aimed at the children, and drew a comparison between your parents taking a wrong turning on a car trip and the conversion of St Paul. I’m afraid it flew straight over the heads of the toddlers that made up much of his congregation. We sang a couple of hymns, and then the vicar asked all the parents with young children to take them down to Sunday school. That pretty much cleared the house. I shuffled downstairs with the crowd into a dusty little room. There must have been sixty of us crowded in there. I felt a little conspicuous sitting in the creche without a child, and vaguely aligned myself with Scarlett and her daddy, who’ve done a recent, strategic St Paul. We sang three religious songs based on popular tunes — “If the spirit is within you, clap your hands” etc’ — then it was time for roll call. I went up to the woman ticking off names and got her to add Nova’s name to the list — and a valuable January tick to boot. Stepping outside the room for a breather, I felt a waft of fresh air. Following my nose, I found a side door that led directly to the carpark. Although I worried briefly that it might be alarmed the temptation was too much. I decided to chance it, and slipped outside without incident. I called Adam on his mobile. He and Nova were just reaching the village, so we all met up for a coffee at Costas. I was just filling Adam in on my morning, when Jenny walked by. She spied me immediately, and came straight in. “Church isn’t over yet,” she said, and I had to confess to sneaking out part way through Sunday school. There was a message from Jemima when we got home, and we went straight over for a debrief. Rob hadn’t followed me downstairs, and had left partway through the regular sermon. They had the school selection criteria out, and were poring over them for potential loopholes, other possible ways to earn the requisite points. As far as I’m concerned, if I decide to go through with this, I just want to do it effectively and stop stressing out over it. Met up with Adam’s family at the Al Fresco restaurant in Totteridge — a very nice, laidback, family friendly place — to celebrate Beulah’s birthday. Went back to their house for cake and coffee afterwards, then swung by the Waitrose to do our weekly shop on the way home. We were too late to pick up a haggis, so we celebrated Burn’s Night with cheese and crackers and smoked oysters instead… |
| January 24, 2004 Went round for pancakes with Pete and Pasc this morning. We talked through the church thing. In Pete’s view, you shouldn’t feel hypocritical attending church solely to get your child into school, because it’s the system that’s at fault not you… According to them, you need to attend the church twice a month to be considered a regular worshipper. The first Sunday is some special extra-long service, so you shouldn’t go to that one. The second Sunday doesn’t have a Sunday school (which is where they take attendance) so there’s no point in going to that one. On the third and fourth Sundays, you go to church, stay for the first ten minutes until the kids go down to Sunday school, get your child ticked off the Sunday school register, come back upstairs for ten minutes at the end of the service and then leave. So that amounts to 24 visits to church (12 each if we take turns) to ensure Nova can attend her local school, which doesn’t seem that big a deal. It’s not that I have anything against church going, because I don’t. I just feel that this situation demeans everyone — the church, the parents, the school… Pasc called up an hour after we got home, asking if she could bring Fay round. Fay feel asleep when Nova was visiting, and when she woke up she was upset that Nova wasn’t there any more. She spent a happy afternoon playing at our house, and I think it’s the first time that having two kids around was actually less trouble than having one. Things were running so smoothly I had no objection when Adam decided to go to the gym, leaving me at home with the two little terrors. In fact I was kind of pleased that we could look after Fay today, because Pete and Pasc were babysitting Nova for us tonight. After I’d fed Nova and changed her into her pyjamas, I took her round to their house, went straight upstairs with her, and settled her in Pete and Pasc’s bed. Completely trouble-free for Pasc, who was actually having friends round for dinner, assuming that Nova didn’t wake up (or throw up in bed again…) Adam took me out for dinner at the Red Fort, a smart Indian restaurant in Soho. We’ve been a few times over the years, and never been that impressed, but it’s recently had a complete overhaul — new decor, new chef, new menu — and has been getting great reviews. And it would get another one from me. I thought the food was great — modern but true to its Indian roots. We started with yam patties and mini lamb kebabs, which were fiery with chilli and served with a tangy mint chutney. We had tandoori snapper, paneer in tomato sauce, spiced spinach and pilau rice for our main course, accompanied by a terrific bottle of… Mission Hill Bin 99 Chardonnay. Any restaurant that has the courage to choose a Canadian wine for the house white has my respect. Our only quibble was that the chappatis they served with our dinner were less than perfectly fresh. They were warm enough, but had lost that elasticity that a fresh Indian bread should have. Adam asked that they be replaced (in that inimitable way he has of complaining that somehow makes people eager and happy to do what he’s asked), and the new batch were piping hot and lovely. Raspberry shrikand, chocolate fondant with pistachio ice cream, and two macchiatos later, and we were homeward bound. Nova was a dozy, cuddly bundle of loveliness, and I had no trouble transferring her from Pasc’s to her “own little bed” as she calls it. |
| January 23, 2004 I’m really sick now. No appetite, headache, scratchy throat chesty cough, dizzy…I took to my bed after lunch and slept for most of the afternoon. Adam took Nova over to Ruby’s house. The girls had fun playing together. They were enjoying an impromptu bath until Ruby crapped in the tub, which brought things to an abrupt halt… Nova ate dinner over there before coming home.Nova’s been accepted into the nursery at the local school for next year, which is causing us much stress and soul searching. Basically, the English school system is a nightmare. Instead of just building schools and having kids go to the closest one, they have state schools, and fee-paying schools and schools that apply selection criteria and who knows what else… The quality of state schools is so variable that parents resort to all sorts of measures to get their kids into one of the better schools. Our local school is affiliated with a local church, and although it is funded by our tax dollars they are allowed to give priority to people who attend church. Because it is considered a good school, parents drive from far and wide to attend this particular church and get their child into St Michaels. We are now wrestling with whether we should:
The whole thing is getting me down. Pete and Pasc did the whole St Michael’s thing until Sid and Fay were accepted, and now Rob has decided to do it so Ruby can get in. I’d decided against it, but I hate to think of all Nova’s friends going to the local school, and Nova not being able to because I’d refused to do what everyone else does… It’s the rock concert principle at work — if everyone just sat in their seats, everyone could see fine. But instead some selfish git stands up to get a better view, and now everybody has to stand up to watch, and except for a few people in the front row nobody can see as well and everyone is worse off. If nobody went to church just to get their kids into St Michaels, those families who genuinely worship at St Michaels could get their kids into the school, and there would be places for the local kids as well. We were watching something mindless on the telly when I heard Nova crying. I thought maybe she’d coughed herself awake. I gave her some cough medicine, which she promptly threw up all over her bed. I changed her jammies and took her into our bed for a cuddle while Adam stripped and remade her bed. She seemed to feel much better for being sick and slept through the rest of the night… |
| January 22, 2004 Feeling pretty crappy… I thought I might go to the gym this morning, but as my head cold has started migrating to my throat and chest cold, it probably wasn’t a great idea. Adam stayed up all night working on his Adidas report, then headed off to spend the day at the Body Shop. Nova and I had a mellow day together, reading books, playing with her Mr Potato Head and watching videos. We were invited round to Anne and John’s for a cup of tea. Adam kept falling asleep in his chair — he gave Anne quite a fright the first time he did it. They’re likely used to their more senior friends nodding off mid-conversation, but don’t expect it from someone Adam’s age… |
| January 21, 2004 Woke up feeling pretty ropy. The room was overheated the way hotel rooms often are, and my sinuses felt like they’d been cemented shut. The 20 minute walk to the course venue helped a bit, but spending the day in a stuffy little room with twenty other people wasn’t what the doctor ordered. The course itself — Usability and Accessability for Public Sector Websites — turned out to be quite interesting, although I doubt it was anything you couldn’t have found on offer in London. They didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know about accessibility, but I got a better idea about where we should be factoring usability testing into our website rationalisation project. Over the lunch break I got into one of those funny conversations you sometimes have with people you know you’ll never see again. I’d mentioned that I worked part-time because I had a two-year-old daughter, and asked the guy I was chatting to if he had kids. “Actually my girlfriend’s pregnant,” he said. It turns out she just found out she’s pregnant last week, they’ve only been together two months, doesn’t know how he feels about it, hasn’t told anyone yet, is worried about how his parents will react… Not the usual chitchat you get over the cheese sandwiches, but I think he found it a relief to talk about it with someone. Conscious I was spending public sector funds on my little Scottish jaunt, I shared a taxi to the airport with another Londoner who was on the same flight. The Sinutab was even more useless than last time, and by the time we landed my jaw muscles ached from my attempts to adjust the pressure in my eustachian tubes. I didn’t bother buying a ticket for the train journey back to King’s Cross (may taking this responsible use of public funds thing a bit far…) then caught the tube to Highgate. I was home by midnight. I gave Nova a little cuddle but she didn’t wake up. It’s the first time I’ve ever spent a night away from her (and the second or third time I haven’t put her to bed…) Adam says she was okay about it. She woke up in the night asking for me, but when Adam told her I wasn’t there she just went back to sleep again… |
| January 20, 2004 I would definitely have called in sick today if I hadn’t arranged to work from home before catching a train to the airport. I had a sluggish morning getting ready before trudging out the door at about 3:30 to take the tube to the Thameslink train to Gatwick. I took some Sinutab in the vain hope of clearing my sinuses before the flight. Caught a taxi into town, with the most garrulous — and flirtatious (and probably near-sighted) — taxi driver I’ve ever encountered. Between his impenetrable accent and my blocked ears, it was “Brrrhh brrrrr brrrhh beautiful AND smart brrrrh brrrr brrr brrrrhh husband’s a lucky man brrrr brrrrhhh” all the way to the hotel. It was a relief to close the door behind me and collapse on my bed. I’d called my friend Wendy to see if she was free to meet up, but they are selling their house at the moment and things are a bit mad. Just as well really… I climbed into straight into bed with my room service sandwich and orange juice instead, which was the best place for me… |
| January 19, 2004 A colleague who had booked herself in a training course in Edinburgh called in sick this morning. As it was too late to cancel the course or the travel arrangements, I decided to go in her stead. Predictably, minutes after I booking an unrefundable plane ticket for tomorrow afternoon, I started feeling sick myself. Nova’s nose has been streaming for the past two days, and whatever she gets, we tend to get… Dave came round for dinner this evening, and by the time I’d cooked Nova’s dinner, our dinner, and done her bedtime routine, I was a shivering, sneezing, stuffed-up wreck. At this rate, I’m probably going to be sicker than the person I’m replacing when I fly tomorrow… |
| January 18, 2004 In the middle of the night, I was awoken my muffled cries coming from the floor. Nova had migrated to the bottom of her inflatable bed and was trying to fight her way out. I managed to extricate her and settle her with her head on the pillow without her really waking up… Jules cooked a big Sunday fry-up: eggs, bacon, sausage, fried tomatoes, mushrooms, and fried bread. Nova was in sausage heaven, eating hers, Adam’s, and half of mine. Left about noon, and stopped at Costco on the way home. I had thought I might go for a run, but whether it was the cooked breakfast or just sheer laziness, I cried off. I much prefer exercising in the morning… |
| January 17, 2004 Woke up feeling absolutely dreadful. “Well, if you’re going to guzzle wine all evening it’s no more than you deserve to feel like this,” I was berating myself until I checked my watch and discovered it was 4:45am. Felt much better when Nova and Bella burst in and started bouncing on the bed at 7:30… Adam and Jules took the kids downstairs for breakfast, and I crept into bed with Mary for a bit of a lie in with a cup of tea and the weekend papers. She had an appointment in Bury St Edmunds, so I went along with her for a bit of shopping before we met for lunch at a new restaurant, The Cupola(?) The food was extremely good — for once a menu actually undersold the dishes on offer. I ordered something like “goat’s cheese, rocket, pepper sandwich”, and was served the most mouthwateringly delicious combination of grilled bread, creamy cheese, smoky roasted peppers, red onions, and peppery rocket in a balsamic vinegar dressing imaginable. Bella was in the midst of one of those social whirls four-year-olds seem to exist in these days: ballet class, was followed by the last half of a birthday party, home for a quick change then off to another party. Nova was happy exploring the bottomless depths of Bella’s toybox, and I managed a couple of hours with my novel, Vernon God Little, this year’s Booker Prize Winner. I was under the misapprehension that Monica Ali had won for Brick Lane. She was the favourite, but long-shot DBC Pierre pipped her at the post. (It all happened around the time mom died, and I wasn’t paying much attention to the news back then…) It took my a while to get into his writing style, but once I did I’ve really enjoyed what is an extremely original and humorous book. We didn’t have as much success settling the girls in Bella’s room tonight. Bella wasn’t happy at not being able to sleep on the floor in a purple inflatable bed like Nova, and manifested her displeasure by dragging her bedding off her bed, squeezing into Nova’s bed with her, refusing to turn out the light etc… An uneasy truce was eventually achieved and the adults retreated downstairs. Popping upstairs for something 15 minutes later, Mary surprised the girls in the middle of moving Nova’s bed from Bella’s room to the guest room. “Nova wants to sleep in this room,” Bella explained. Mary settled Nova in our room, and that was the last we heard from them for the evening. Mary cooked roast monkfish with beurre blanc and vegetables, and a lovely apple-raspberry-cinnamon puff pastry tart. I was feeling a bit tired from last night’s excesses and called it a night before midnight… |
| January 16, 2004 Nova and I are off to Suffolk this morning to visit Jules and Mary. (Adam will be joining us this evening — he’s booked a taxi to their place from Stansted.) I didn’t do any getting ready last night, so have had to work around Nova’s requests for library book readings, and drinks with ice, and games on the “pooter”. She’s helpfully putting her toys away at the moment though… The drive went pretty well, considering I’ve never done it on my own, and you never really pay much attention to a route until you actually drive it yourself. Nova was a car star, and sat contentedly in the back singing along to her nursery rhymes, reading her library books, and munching on the regular snacks I passed over my shoulder. Mary had lunch waiting when we arrived: a blue cheese-courgette tart and green salad. Baby Rollo is getting so cute — 6-12 months is such a nice age… Nova had a great time playing with all Bella’s toys, and wasn’t best pleased when it was time to climb into the car to go pick up Bella. A funny little thing: Nova had been playing with Bella’s Barbie car, and had arranged it so Barbie was driving and Ken was the passenger. As soon as Bella got home, she yanked Barbie out of the driver’s seat and installed Ken. Nova didn’t say anything, but as soon as Bella’s back was turned she swapped them round again… After the girls finished their dinner, I introduced Nova to the purple inflatable “Groovy Chick” bed I’ve bought for nights away from home now that she’s too big for the travel cot. It was love at first sight, and it was no problem settling her on the floor in Bella’s room for the night. The only problem was that Bella was pretty taken with the inflatable bed and the idea of sleeping on the floor as well… Mary made kedgeree for dinner, and we’d eaten by the time Adam arrived from Stansted at 10pm. Drank too much and pronounced loudly on a range of subjects I know nothing about before finally taking myself off to bed about 1am… |
| January 15, 2004 Well, ballet class was a washout… I was a bit skeptical about how you’d teach ballet to 2 1/2 year olds, but the instructor was so enthusiastic on the phone, I thought we’d give it a try. Nova was clearly the youngest in the group (and the only one in nappies). The other little girls in pink tights and tutus… The class looked like a lot of fun, and you could see the ballet elements coming in as the instructor devised games that got them turning their toes out and pliéing and tiptoeing around the room. Nova participated for about 5 minutes before her face crumpled and she ran to hide in my arms. We watched for a bit before giving it up as a lost cause. I was surprised at what a range of abilities there were in little girls that age. There was one that was so instinctively graceful that she looked like a miniature ballerina already. The rest were clodhopping around to some extent… Stopped at the library on the way home to pick out a few books and videos. Predictably, Nova threw her usual wobbly when we had to hand the stuff we’d chosen over to the clerk to check it out. It doesn’t seem to sink in when I explain that it’s part of the process. We read her books when I got home, and I don’t know if it is a coincidence, but all of them were about little kids (or animals) and their daddies. Mom’s barely rated a mention. I’ve noticed this lately — in Finding Nemo, for example, the mom was killed in the first scene and the rest of the story was about dad and kid. Adam left for Germany this afternoon, so Nova and I had dinner together and I lingered a bit more over the bed routine. She’s actually pretty good about going to bed, as long as you don’t skip any steps. |
| January 14, 2004 Adam drove up to Wolverhampton today for a funeral. A colleague of his who died of motor neurone disease at the age of 44, leaving two young kids behind. Such a cruel disease… |
| January 13, 2004 Adam picked up Nova from nursery today so I could work late. In a complete roll reversal, he cooked dinner while Nova and I had a good time playing with her Mr Potato Head. Practically all she’ll watch these days is Toy Story 2 and the Fimbles video dad gave her for Christmas, although she still puts in the occasional request for the Tubbies or Winnie the Pooh.Nova’s pretty easy to put to bed at the moment. I have a set routine:
Watched Celebrity Fit Club while we ate our mushroom risotto. A bunch of D-list celebrity has-beens are given a chance to appear on TV again, at the cost of being put through a grueling diet and exercise programme with weekly weigh-ins. Once my dinner settled a bit I went to the gym, where I did a 5k run and some weights. |
| January 12, 2004 I’m finding that work is starting to interest me again. I don’t think I was really ready to come back to work in November. Looking back, it seems like I was in some sort of fog. Coping with mom’s death has been completely outside my previous experience. I have no idea how long it will take before I feel “normal” again, or what to expect along the way. Nova was playing happily when I went to pick her up. She’s back into the swing of things at nursery now, no longer resistant to the idea of going in the mornings, or tearful about being dropped off. The nursery team have commented on how cheerful she seems. We had monkfish tails wrapped in Parma ham for dinner, which was delicious (if a bit fancy for a Monday night). Nova thought so too — in spite of having just polished off her plate of sausages and mushrooms, she ate a good third of my fish. |
| January 11, 2004 When Adam took Nova to her swimming lesson this morning, I went for a long run on the Heath. It went pretty well — the weather was wet and windy, but that’s better than being too hot. Following Galloway’s advice to take regular walking breaks on long runs, I ran nine minutes and walked one. The whole thing took me just over an hour, which means it is somewhere between 5 and 6 miles. Apparently Nova was pretty badly behaved in her swimming lesson, refusing to follow the teacher’s instructions and fixated on some toy watering can that happened to be there. Adam was pretty exasperated with her. It’s Oliver’s birthday today, so I made a surgical strike on Toys ‘R’ Us, where I bought him a Fisher-Price train and track. When I asked Nova what she thought I should buy Oliver for his birthday, she said, “A brown dolly,” so I got him one of those as well. I also bought a copy of Toddler Taming, which I hope will give us some ideas on how to handle the more testing end of Nova’s behaviour. Wrapping Oliver’s presents, Nova was pretty keen on the brown dolly — but for her, not Oliver. The birthday party was the usual madhouse. There was champagne for the adults, and lots of kid-friendly snacks. Nova devoted her energies to decimating the buffet. There was an attempt at a kiddy disco, which lasted about two songs. Oliver liked the brown dolly, but with all the presents he was getting, it wasn’t long before he abandoned it for something else and Nova got a chance to play with it. Made parsnip dhal for dinner and watched Donnie Darko on DVD. |
| January 10, 2004 Went to the gym first thing for a swim. Had a whole lane to myself, which was a luxury. I managed 1km of front crawl. Not all that quickly at 22 minutes — I could swim a mile in under 30 minutes by the time I was eight, and at this pace a mile would have taken me 34 minutes). Had a sauna afterword, and a glass of fresh apple/pear/ginger juice for the drive home. What a virtuous start to the day… Back at the ranch, Adam was up to his eyeballs with childcare, housework, and supervising a handyman we’d arranged to spend the day building a new shelf about the kitchen window and repairing bits and pieces. I stuck around long enough for some lunch, and spent an hour or so playing with Nova, before I had to swan off for my stone therapy massage. This was my Christmas present from Adam. The therapist applies hot and cold stones to your body at various points throughout the massage, producing the most amazing sensations. By the time she was done, I was a blissful heap of jelly… Taking over the Nova care when I got home brought me down to earth with a bump. I had Nova help me make her own dinner — following a recipe from Fun Food for Kids, we:
Nova did everything… I thought it might encourage her to try new dishes, if she had a hand in making them, and I’d say it was a partial success. Adam had booked a table at Locanda Locatelli, a hot restaurant in Marble Arch. Jenny came round to babysit and we took the tube into town. The decor was sort of lounge-bar with curved banquettes, convex mirrors on the wall, and stripped wood pillars throughout the room. There was a vase of two foot long parmesan breadsticks on the table, and once we’d ordered they brought a basket with about eight types of delicious handmade breads. The food itself was very good, but not exceptional: Adam had pappardelle with chicken livers to start, while I had the pumpkin-amaretto pasta parcels; for our main courses we had the monkfish with capers and walnut sauce and the salt-baked seabass; and a terrific bottle of Dolcetto. It was obviously not as good as the bottle the large table of Americans next to us had ordered. Theirs was carefully poured into a fancy decanter before being served in wine classes the size of their heads. Locatelli himself kept popping out from the kitchen to schmooze with them. They had the look of people you just might recognise if you read Vanity Fair each month, and studied those pages with the pictures of celebrity/media parties. They kept talking about “the stage show” they were obviously associated with. Part way through the meal Leonard Nemoy and his wife were seated on the other side of us. (It’s weird the way I always expect him to have pointy ears.) They appeared to be great friends with “the stage show” group, and stood up to chat with them. Returning from the loo, Adam had to ask Spock to shift his ass so he could get back into his seat. Took a taxi home, which is always a nice way to end a nice evening out. I could get accustomed to days like this… |
| January 9, 2004 Adam stayed home with Nova this morning while I went into the West End to do some shopping: flipflops and headphones for the gym; a couple of CDs; and a Kanga-and-Roo doll from the Disney Store for Nova, which went down a treat. While I was out, Adam took Nova to see the GP about the lump on her tonsil, which hasn’t gone away. Apparently, she disgraced our good family name by screaming, kicking and squirming when the doctor tried (and failed) to examine her. She’s being referred to an ear, nose and throat specialist to fail to examine… Nova’s really getting into her Toy Store 2 DVD at the moment, and after lunch we sat down and watched it en famille. Afterwards, I took Nova over to play with Ruby so Adam could get some work done. (We haven’t seen them since Monday afternoon when they popped by for a visit and Nova popped Ruby’s foil balloon…) Ruby has started attending the Montessori school in Pond Square. I wondering about enrolling Nova there, but high fees and limited hours (12:15-3:15 daily) ended that line of speculation. The girls played well together at first, but Nova became increasingly uncooperative as the visit went on. Ruby is a few months older than Nova and a bit more socialised. She kept saying things like, “Do you want to play with my trains, Nova?” to which Nova would reply, “NO!”, which would make Ruby run crying to her mom. Eventually Ruby expressed her frustration with this behaviour by grabbing Nova by the teeshirt and slapping her several times on the head. Tears all around. We cancelled the plan to stay for the girls’ dinner and took my little combatant home. Went round to Pete and Pasc’s for dinner. I put Nova down in their bed — she wasn’t crazy about the idea, but settled reasonably well. Pasc outdid herself on the cooking front, making baked cod with mango and ginger. Stayed to about midnight, and managed to transfer Nova to her own bed without incident. |
| January 8, 2004 Fitted in a trip to the gym before Adam left for work this morning. Ran 5k on the treadmill and did my usual weights routine. The weather has been abominable lately — if we hadn’t joined the gym I don’t think I’d be getting in many runs this week.Nova and I were pretty much housebound by rain. We spent the morning watching videos, playing hide-and-seek, reading books, playing with Barbies, colouring, and visiting the Tubbies website on the “pooter”. I find it takes more and more energy to keep her entertained… I’ve noticed signs up round the village about a “baby ballet” class and thought we might go along to see what it was about, but I couldn’t get her mobilised and out of the house on time. I spoke to the woman on the phone, and although Nova would be the youngest in the class, she suggested I bring her along to see how Nova likes it next week. Either that, or we may go to a music class Dina and Ben attend in Finchley… Honestly, even at the age of two, she could have activities scheduled every day if I were that kind of mom… |
| January 7, 2004 I registered for the Victoria Marathon today — “only 277 days to go!” As it takes place a few weeks after my 40th birthday, I’ve been entered in the 40-44 age group — yikes! I always hoped to run a marathon one day, and when Wendy asked me if I wanted to join her and her sister Gail in running Victoria next October 10th, I thought it sounded like a pretty good idea. My only reservation was around committing to something like training for a marathon when I’m hoping to get pregnant this year — the two goals aren’t exactly compatible. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and decided that since I don’t have any control over whether I maintain a pregnancy, there’s no point in planning my life around something that might not happen. And in the meantime, it’s a very positive thing to be working towards. So, 42k or 42 weeks, we’ll see… (Check out my name in the confirmed entrants!) |
| January 6, 2004 Went to the gym this evening after dinner. It was so crowded that I couldn’t park in their massive parking lot. When I was a regular gym goer I used to hate this time of year, when hordes of “resolutionists” would overrun the place, misprogramming the treadmills, taking ages on the weight machines, not wiping their sweat off the benches, and just generally getting underfoot. By the end of February most of them would be gone, and things would be okay until the mini-surge in May when summer wardrobes loomed. Maybe I’m the resolutionist now — only time will tell… I ran 5k (something to put in my marathon training log!) and did a weights routine before changing into my swimsuit (or “swimming costume” as they say in these parts) for a sauna. Personally, I’d prefer to exercise in the morning, but we working moms have to take our personal time where we can find it! |
| January 5, 2004 Today was my first day back at work — it feels like it’s months since I’ve been there, a lot more than three weeks anyway… At least there weren’t too many emails to wade through (only 60 or so). There’s not much action over the holidays. Still, my to-do list is several pages long… Nova had a good day at nursery, and was chatty and cheerful when I went to pick her up. She was determined to walk up the hill pushing the pushchair “all by myself!!!”, so it took us ages to get home… |
| January 4, 2004 Our new gym membership starts today, so I set off first thing for a virtuous workout while Adam and Nova slouched around the house eating pancakes…;-) I ran 5k on the treadmill, and did my usual weights routine. Treated myself to 15 minutes in the jacuzzi before heading home. There’s loads to do round the house: clothes to wash, fridge to clear out, work bag to pack, new toys to find a home for… Ran around like a madwoman for a few hours, then had a delicious afternoon nap while Adam and Nova were at Waitrose. When Nova was in bed — and Adam was at the gym — I took down the Christmas tree and other decorations. I usually do it on the 6th of January like mom did, but I thought it made sense to get it out of the way before the working week starts. Wendy called while I was taking off the tinsel, and we had a long chat. She and her sister Gail have committed to running the Victoria Marathon at the start of October, and I’ve agreed to join them (assuming I’m not pregnant…) They’ve already registered, and Gail has even set up a website to track our mileage. Wendy’s log is full of regular, steadily increasing training runs, Gail’s been out a few times, and so far mine is completely empty, which is a bit embarrassing… |
| January 3, 2004 Energetic start to the day with all the cleaning up and packing. We finally set off about 10:30am. We dropped in on Antonia’s mom Maureen who lives in practically the next village for coffee, mince pies and a nip of amaretto… Nova ate a whole plate of chocolate biscuits for lunch while we visited. It’s not the sort of meal she gets at home, but I would have felt like a hypocrite making her eat a rice cracker with marmite while we were knocking back pastries and liqueurs. We made good time home. Nova napped a bit, which provided welcome relief from the nursery rhymes that have become the soundtrack to all our car journeys. We unpacked, fed Nova, and settled her in her own bed. She was pretty happy to see her toys again, especially the new things that she hasn’t spent much time with yet. We ate once she was down, then I phoned Dad and David. We watched the latest James Bond movie then went to bed. |
| January 2, 2004 Nova slept very well — the enhancements obviously paid off. When I went in to get her at 8am, she said, “Nova in her little nest!” Made a big fruit salad for breakfast, partly for new year health resolutions, and partly to use up the mass of fruit that we have to eat by the time we leave tomorrow morning. It’s always the way with group holidays — it’s almost impossible to avoid over-catering. Liana had planned a big walk in the Carmarthen Fans, a range of hills a half hour’s drive away. We put Nova in the pack going up — “Mommy carry me!” (which also jibed with the new year’s resolution I guess…) After a long, gentle, squelchy uphill slog we stopped for a bite to eat and a chance to admire the view before tackling the steeper slope to the top. Nova was getting restless by this point, so we let her out to do some walking. It got increasing windy and cold the higher we climbed. I was hoping that walking might help keep Nova warm, but it didn’t seem to help. I kept popping chocolate Hannukah coins into her mouth like one of those bedsit heaters, but she eventually put on the brakes and started bawling. She looked so cold and miserable, that I thought it was best to take her back down. Martha was in pretty much the same state, and so Liana and I turned back with the girls while the others pushed on to the summit. Liana had Martha on her shoulders, but Nova insisted in being carried in my arms. She refused to wrap her legs round my waist, which would have helped matters, and insisted on being carried like a bride crossing a threshold. Both girls were howling by this point. Coming down a particularly tricky patch, I lost my footing. We slided for so long before wiping out that I had time to think that maybe we wouldn’t fall before I hit the ground on one knee, the other leg extended in front of me like a hurdler. Nova never even touched the turf, and the shock of it seemed to startle her out of her tears. It gave me a bit of an insight into how those refugees manage to cross mountain passes carrying their children and belongings — if you have no choice, you find the resources somehow. Things improved once we got to the first stile at the bottom of the steep bit. Nova agreed to ride on my shoulders (another thing I didn’t know I could do, climb over stiles with a child in my arms). We sang nursery rhymes and counted sheep and crows (and a dead rabbit) and had quite a pleasant time for the rest of the walk back to the car. I changed Nova into dry, clean clothes, but I’d forgotten to bring a change of socks for myself. I removed my soaking pair and put my trainers back on sockless. When the rest of the party returned, we polished off what they’d left of the lunch and headed back to the cottage. Liana put together a dinner that used up as many of the groceries as possible: roasted orange vegetables, stirfried green vegetables, leftover cous cous and a fiery tomato-mango salsa. After the wine was gone (including most of a bottle of Marsala), Liana turned her talents to mixing up cocktails with the leftover alcohol. Her first effort involved orange juice, Galliano, Marsala and cream; the second had ginger beer, sloe gin, rum, and limes; the final one had chocolate, brandy butter, rum, and I can’t remember what… The evening wound up once the alcohol was gone, and we realised it was 1am and we had to leave the house by 10am the next morning… |
| January 1, 2004 Happy New Year! Nova slept badly — she fell down the crack of doom again. I brought her into bed with me at about 6am and we slept for a couple of hours. Strange how it’s easier to sleep with her now than when she was a little baby… Cooked up a big fry up for brunch. I contributed hash browns, which aren’t really a feature of the English breakfast. I don’t have a hangover, which is odd given the amount we drank. I was very tired though and feeling a bit sad about starting a new year that mom will never be part of. I took every opportunity to slope off for a lie down, but Nova generally found me before long with a book that needed reading. In the afternoon we went for a walk round the grounds of Dynevor Castle. The weather was foul and Nick and Jane sensibly opted out. Nova was kitted out in her new outdoor gear from Margo and Aaron, welly boots and purple sheep coat, and seemed content. The girls did a pretty good job of walking up to the castle walls — Nova had only one short stint of shoulder riding, and managed the steep steps all by herself. We sat about a bit on a bench with a terrific view of the surrounding countryside, eating snacks and getting buffeted by the wind before heading down. On the return leg Nova had a wipeout running down the tales but was “very brave” (her own words) and didn’t cry much. With all the rain we’ve been having, there were awesome puddles metres wide, and Nova and Martha had a great time splashing. It was easy to settle Nova tonight after all the exercise. I made some enhancements to her bed. Inspired by our castle visit perhaps, I built ramparts around all four edges using rolled up blankets, so she’s now lying in a little nest. Pete made a lentil soup, which we ate with sandwiches and salad. I’d made a sticky toffee pudding for dessert — one of those “surprise” puddings that produce their own sauce while they are baking. For this one, you basically made a cake mix, folded in some chopped dates, scraped it into a buttered casserole dish, sprinkled the top with sugar, dotted it with butter… and then poured a kettle full of boiling water over it before putting it in the oven. I felt a bit nervous about that last stage, but it turned out beautifully. We had a quiet night of telly and books before turning in at midnight. |
