On the pull

The poor little sprocket has a cold. I think this is her first, so she’s done well to get to five months without any real illness. She woke up this morning with an upper lip looking like she’d just ascended that ski-lift in Dumb and Dumber. She’s been really brave and is still herself (ie. vocalising on both the in- and out-breaths). She has no temperature, so I hope she’ll get better soon.

The fashionable way to manipulate toys is to try and pull them like you’re stretching dough. I’m hoping this practice at an early stage will set her up well for becoming a pizza chef. Maybe she could at least be an amateur (she’d have to keep her other job). She’d certainly do a better job than me, I always manage to burn even the supermarket pizzas. Thinking about it, there are loads of cooking opportunities for her around here. We had a huge haul of fruit from our garden – a tree full of apples, another full of plums and brambles heaving with blackcurrants. Plenty for the budding pudding cook or master jam-maker.

Three generations of Day

Hopefully one day we’ll get all four, but this weekend I’m pleased to say that generation 1, 3 and 4 of the Day tribe came together. Vashti was delighted to meet her great-grandad Harry, survivor of World War II, many years in the Civil Service and now, a prolifically vommitey five month old baby girl.

This is a kind of holiday diary entry, so I shall insert the obligatory random details for posterity… I bought some beef jerky, Katie bought some Kendal mint cake (which she later made herself sick on), and we returned to Brum with a big bag of the finest Lake District kindling to really get the fire going. Oh yes, and we forgot to take the changing bag to the farm shop cafe and had to wrap her bum in paper towel after she did a poo. Bad parents. Perhaps I shouldn’t have blogged that. Now the health visitors will be after us. Darn.

Everything goes in the mouth

Vashti’s in the “if it moves put it in your mouth; if it doesn’t move grab and stick it in your mouth anyway” phase. This means if you get your face too close, you’d better made sure her nails are trimmed first. She doesn’t spend much time on her back now, because she rolls over at the first opportunity. Since the roll is currently a one way ticket, there is usually some moaning after a few minutes. She’ll be happier when she can sit up, which I think is only a few weeks away. As is eating. It’s just a shame she might end up missing the fantastic fruit harvest from our garden – we’ve had gooseberries (two different colours), red, white and black currents, rhubarb, apples, plums and strawberries.