Before I get into the nitty gritty, Grace, I have to say, is turning out to be such a joy to be around. These last few weeks have seen her turn from quiet, contemplative little toddler, to a chatty, quirky and funny child with a great outlook on life. I'm so proud.
Her vocab has flourished, it must be all the rain we have had this summer. Colours, objects, feelings... she's not afraid to express. One thing bothering me is her starting to use Mummy and Mum interchangeably. I keep telling her, Mummy has an E on the end and she mustn't call me Mum (she's too young), but I guess it's better than calling me Heather. Maybe that's next. She's counting too, not in the right order, one, two, six, ten. Must be those long legs working up the stairs a few at a time.
Spending a week with her in Scotland has been such a blessing. A trusted Scottish friend has assured me that Ayrshire is well enough across the border to count, so yes, we had a wonderful time exploring the area around Ayr. Loch Doon, Dunure, Culzean Castle, beautiful, and super fun for a toddler. Shell collecting on the beach, splashing in muddy puddles, walking windswept hills looking for sheep to bleet at, spotting ships from the castle walls. Good times.
Back to reality this week, and with redundancy a real possibility at work, wondering if the news will come this week from the people who pull the strings is making this rotten chest infection I've acquired along with the post-holiday blues all the more difficult to shake off. Insomnia from worry (or coughing?!), is making the days drag and I'm getting by on caffeine, my dear friend. I shan't dwell, it hasn't happened yet, just watch this space for thunderous fingers if they do pull the plug on a business I have come to love (and hate at times) over the last nine years.
Matt the Husband is treading the pavements of Sunderland today, running the Great North Run. I'm watching Mo Farrah and his Olympian colleagues get ready to start the race off in half an hour. The chances of spotting said Husband in the crowds on the Beeb are slim, but I'm casting half an eye towards the tele on the off chance I might spot him in his yellow bib. Good luck Lightning!
I'm off to walk the dog and batch cook to make for an easy week when I can stop coughing and get my backside off the sofa. But sat under a blanket with the dog at my side and the heat from the laptop, it's not going to be an easy up and onwards this morning. Grace is having a sleepover at her Grandma's. The house feels very quiet. Quiet Contemplation.
|Quiet contemplation: windswept at Loch Doon|
|Spotting ships: Culzean Castle|
|Collecting shells: Dunure Harbour|
|Splash-happy: muddy puddles....|