Musings on nothing particular

I have just spent twenty minutes or so racing around after Isabella, she trying to catch me and I trying to catch her in turn. Our little house was full of the most gorgeous giggles as her chubby legs seem to fly over the floorboards in her eagerness to get away, her crazy hair a mass of tousled curls flip-flipping this way and that as she ran. What could be better than these impromptu games with my twenty month cherub?

The other children/adults are at work or school and we have the house to ourselves for the morning at least. Isabella sits now in her highchair with an enormous bowl of porridge carefully trying to spoon it into her mouth, sometimes managing, sometimes delivering the gloopy mass into her lap. I knew I should have put her bib on. I sit at the computer where I have not long posted a business blog and am now nursing a coffee while answering emails - and checking out blogs of course! Later as she settles for her sleep I shall return to my sewing and listen to the radio which is always set to Radio 4, and when she wakes we will start the evening meal before collecting Sam and Lucy; another busy evening will begin.

Isabella has discovered the delights of cooking with Mummy which involves much stirring of eggs and shaking of flour while perching precariously on the kitchen chair. I have half an eye on her waiting for the moment when Mrs Independent will slide towards the edge and half an eye on the ingredients as she hurls them around in gay abandon. I need to make her an apron which will be able to hang on the back of the kitchen door with Daddy's and Lucy's, but goodness only knows when I will get round to it. Their's were made before I got quite so busy.

Looking out of the window I can see four beautiful snowdrops and a sea of golden crocuses, their pretty cups wide open despite the fact the sky is leaden. It is a mess out there and I am desperate to get outside, to feel the air on my skin. I want to sort the paths and rearrange the hen pen ready for the new batch we are getting soon, but the dull day does not inspire me any more than the shouting of the ducks who seem to have become noisier with age. No, today the warmth of the house and the train set Isabella has emptied out of her toy box seem far more appealing; the garden will have to wait.

See you soon xx