Holidays

PostingEaster break

MelroseEasterMarch2008019_Small.JPGSo, our Easter break in the Scottish Borders. First, the good bits: daffodils, teashops, time with husband and child, ruined abbeys, Easter eggs (Beanie's egg is pictured left) and cherry cake. Plus I managed to drive us there and back - a big deal for me, as I must be one of the most timid drivers in Scotland. And the bad bits? Freak weather conditions: hailstorms and snow. Va-vay and I arguing about the route. And about my driving. And - worst bit - a group of fifty 10-year-old boys invading our youth hostel on Saturday night, banging on the door of our family room, rattling the door handle and shouting at us, forcing Va-vay, Beanie and me to flee in terror to a local hotel at 9pm. Though in a way, moving to the hotel was one of the good bits, because it (unlike the hostel) had central heating, lavender toiletries, coal fires, wood panelling, good cheer, tranquillity, attentive but unobtrusive staff, ensuite bathrooms, a television and top-notch bedding. I will never take any of these for granted again. Not after Schoolboy Saturday. And yesterday, Va-vay came home bearing a new piece of geekery - a Sat Nav system for the car to avoid further map-reading arguments. He has already had hours of fun programming it and is now talking excitedly about future trips. I should have known the way to win him round to driving was via technology. I had best get back to my (paid) work to find funds to pay for it all.

Posted 25 March 2008 12:08 | Number of comments: 10 | Comments

Activities Car Holidays

PostingVote on your 'Treasured Places'

DP029255.jpgThose of you who live here in Scotland might be interested in Treasured Places, a free on-line poll to choose the country's favourite historical image. It's run by the Royal Commission on Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland , a heritage organisation that documents Scotland's past, and voting remains open until Thursday (25 Oct). The Commission is staging the vote to celebrate its 100th anniversary next year.

DP029258.jpgVoters can choose from a hundred pictures that range from shots of the Dean Bridge, Edinburgh (top left) to Craigievar Castle, Aberdeenshire (middle left), Drum Castle, also in Aberdeenshire, (bottom left) and Elgin Cathedral in Moray. There are some gems in there, such as images of the Churchill Barrier at Scapa Flow, Abbotsford House in the Borders, the Bell Rock Lighthouse in Angus, and the Bilsland Crest from the Thistle Chapel in St Giles Cathedral. Or you can nominate your own image.

800700.jpgThe top ten images will feature in a major centenary exhibition at the Edinburgh City Art Centre in 2008 and the winner will be celebrated by a poem written by Valerie Gillies. The winner will be announced on Saturday (27 Oct). Lest you wonder about my involvement in the project (and, please, no jokes, thank you all the same, about historical monuments/older mothers, really not in the mood), let's just say one of the organisers is a close relative of someone who comments on this site frequently. Beyond that, my lips are sealed. 

Posted 23 October 2007 23:56 | Number of comments: 2 | Comments

Activities Edinburgh Fun Holidays Out and about Older mother

PostingDog days

On holiday it seemed that Beanie greeted every slavering cur, half-rabid wolf and barking hound like long-lost friends, crying out 'dug' to them, oblivious to my maternal fears. 'Dug' is a recent addition to her vocabulary, a popular one, but Avignon pavements are narrow; its dogs can be unpredictable.

Imagine, then, her delight when, on a train journey home one day, we happened on a tiny 'dug' nestling in a woman's handbag. Combining as it did two of her greatest loves - 'dugs' and handbags - Beanie could not have been more entranced.

"Dug! Dug! Dug!" she pointed, desperate to ensure that I, too, had noticed this two-for-one miracle, this holy grail of travel accessories, the benchmark by which all other bags will now be judged. "Dug! Dug! Dug!"

"Yes, Beanie. Dog," I told her, a trifle pedantically, it must be confessed, but loving her innocent enthusiasm.

"Can she touch the dog?" I asked its owner in French.

"Ah, no, he has sharp teeth. Likes to bite." The woman made biting gestures.

"Beanie," I whispered to her "The little dog might bite. We'll just look at him for now."

She listened to what I said, clambered back up on my lap and watched the puppy from afar, interjecting every so often: 'dug!' - and then again - 'dug!' until both she and the dog fell asleep.

Posted 16 October 2007 12:06 | Number of comments: 12 | Comments

Daughter Holidays Likes/Dislikes Out and about

PostingEn vacances....

.... for a couple of weeks. Back early October.

Posted 21 September 2007 21:11 | Number of comments: 12 | Comments

Holidays

PostingNew beginnings

So, the weekend away. The child-free weekend away.

Surreal moment in Manchester Airport en route to Waterford, in Ireland. Was pushing a trolley between terminals. That felt natural: I'm used to pushing things. Looked down. Couldn't see a toddler in front of me.

Ohmigod, where was she? Where was Beanie? Panicked.

Remembered. Big sigh of relief - she was at nursery. While I was supposed to be learning to enjoy myself on my own again.

Va-vay said before I left: "If you don't come back having enjoyed yourself, I'll make you go away again."

Mad paranoia before I left. I started worrying someone might steal Beanie from nursery while I was away. Phoned a friend. Who was kind enough not to sound exasperated but persuaded me my fears were groundless; talked me onto the plane.

As for the wedding itself, beautiful. The sun shone on our corner of Ireland. The priest who conducted the ceremony could have been in showbiz. A "character" we all agreed afterwards. Straight out of Father Ted.

As we waited for the bride to arrive, a red butterfly fluttered in an arched window of the church. She arrived to Pachelbel's Canon in D, played on the harpsichord. Never fails to bring tears to my eyes, that music. The groom looked so proud to be marrying such a lovely girl.

They certainly knew how to party. The party went on until five am, with lots of singing, dancing, drinking and talking. I managed to last until one o'clock. Late by my enfeebled standards.

It was lonely without Va-vay. Made me realise how lucky I am to be with him. Reminded me of the start to our family life.

The wedding seemed made up of couples, like when I was 'properly' single. At the dinner, I sat next to other 'singleton' at the event, a nice Irish diplomat who told me it was difficult in his line of work to find a wife, because nowadays women want careers, and are reluctant to go through the upheaval of moving country every three years.

Our table had a book on how long the speeches would last.

On Sunday morning, I got up, made myself a cup of tea and went back to bed to read the papers. For the first time in the eighteen months since I became a mother.

At the security check on the way home, officials searched my belongings. The woman found my diary and opened it. The pages fell open where I'd left a picture of Beanie on her first birthday. The official looked at the photo. Looked at me. Smiled. Stopped the search. Waved me through.

Posted 17 September 2007 15:41 | Number of comments: 13 | Comments

Fun Holidays Out and about Kit

PostingWaiting till you're older...

Sometimes people assume the fact I became a mum only at 38 is part of some grand master plan to dominate the universe through the cardinal female sin of 'having it all'. For those unfamiliar with 'having it all', this is the mistaken feminine belief that it's possible to have:

a) an interesting, fulfilling and possibly also even well-paid career

and

b) children.

Anyone who's taken a recent look at the job ads for high-status part-time jobs - no, before you ask, there aren't any - can tell you 'having it all' is a myth.

The truth is that I didn't feel I had any choice in waiting until I was slightly older because the right relationship didn't fall into place until I was in my mid-thirties. And of course, like all the annoying predictions said, it happened when I least expected. Early one morning, standing in the BA check-in queue for short-haul European flights at Gatwick - an exchange of longer-than-necessary looks with a young man ahead of me. I remember thinking, "My God, he's tall." Eighteen months later we were married.

Not everyone believes a stable partnership is necessary to bring up children and I have huge respect and admiration for everyone who brings up children on their own. They should get medals for all their work, not a drubbing in the tabloid press. But now we've actually got the Bean and I know how demanding being a mother can be (yes, also delightful, joyful and life-affirming) I'm even more convinced that I wouldn't want to be doing this alone. So although I'd have loved to get started on having a family earlier, I had to wait for that meeting at the BA departure gate. After all, this is for long-haul passengers only.

Posted 12 August 2007 12:41 | Number of comments: 27 | Comments

Older mother Daughter Holidays Husband