Sunday 7 April 2019

Beautiful

Sometimes I cannot forgive the new flat for not being the old flat. It doesn't have enough memories in it. It's cramped and untidy and if/when we win the lottery, we're fleeing to the West End.

At the moment, however, it looks lovely, and not just because of the guggle fish of purple tulips on the coffee table. 

It's because Polish Pretend Daughter and French Pretend Son-in-Law have just been here with their baby. 

PPD is of medium height, slim and beautiful. FPSL is very tall, slim and cheerful. The baby is only a few months old, and very cute and good-natured. Benedict Ambrose and I had not met her yet, and here she was at last. 

We had tea and coffee, cheese-bread and butter, cardamom bread and cheese, and a Victoria sponge (the simplest of British cakes). PDD fed the baby, and FPSL told us about the home renovations. They both told us about the adventure of the baby's birth, and how the nurses were so excited that the baby had black hair. (Apparently Scottish babies arrive bald.)  PDD opted for a natural birth (no drugs), and smugly admitted that she yelled a lot during the worst hour. 

PDD also praised her husband for all the hard work that he does. In the mornings he takes the baby for a walk, so the wife-mother can sleep, and then he goes to work. When he comes home from work, he takes charge of the baby again. PDD is not engaged in paid work right now, so she believes that FPSL works much harder than she does. (N.B. PDD is up several times a night feeding her baby.) 

What a blessing to have a happy young family in our flat and to serve them tea and cake. After their visit, we volunteered to walk them to the bus stop, and as we were all busying ourselves with bags, boots and baby buggy, I chanced to look in the abandoned sitting-room. The coffee table was bedecked with my best china and the whole room looked beautiful. 

Maybe the longer we live here and the more young folk who come and go, leaving happy memories,  the more and more I will like the flat. 

IRONY ALERT: I start an exercise class tomorrow, so I have bought two pairs of leggings. I promise not to wear them in the street, let alone the at the Most Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. 

6 comments:

  1. That gladdened my heart. I like how they are bigging each other up to ye, very sweet. I am in the same position, how do I make this place my home? Memories of illness, the place is furnished for an invalid. Speaking with a coach the other day gifted by work we drilled down for I don't know where to start. The start is splashing out on a comfortable armchair. I have nowhere comfy to sit. Such a simple thing. So saving for a good quality one from this week. And then clear out the chimney and then get a new floor down and so on and so forth. But start with a chair. It's hard making a house a home, we've all been in a home where people have lived for years I'm sure and it's still not a home somehow.

    Sinéad.

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  2. Well done about the arm chair! What about a plant? Are you a plant person?

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  3. I have a garden overgrown with weeds that I am slowly tidying up. Were you thinking house plants? I started saving for a good armchair and understand that it'll take time to do what needs doing here. I think the problem is that this is the first home of my own that I can decorate. I wonder what my taste is so perhaps bit by bit is a good idea. When I come home I think of that Philip Larkin poem, you know the one with the line "that vase". That everything is as I left it this morning is a novelty, for now anyway. I can't imagine that'll last though.

    Sinéad.

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    1. I understand. I am thinking houseplants, but most of all I want a puppy, so they would have to be safe-for-dogs houseplants.

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  4. I'm pretty sure it's ok to wear leggings anywhere, as long as the appropriate garments are worn on top ;-D
    -Amused

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