Mulling over baby names...
The sunday lunch strategy didn't work. We reckon the baby overheard us discussing it and, as s/he gets all Herself's meals only half an hour after her, kind of, decided to hang on for it. I can't blame the wee blighter, mind. Just about everything but the beef and the Oxo cube came from allotment. There was Yorkshire Pudding with fresh thyme through it; mashed potatoes boiled with chopped sage; roast parsnips, golden ball turnip, carrots and a lovely piece of sirloin. The key element in a sunday dinner is the gravy, and this was a wonderful creation with onion, rosemary and garlic. Suggestions for bringing on the birth include gin, curry, castor oil, sage, lemon tea and rhubarb crumble. Sex features heavily in advice from all kinds of people (including Mafleen, who's a midwife and likely to know about this process), with both parties reaching a simultaneous climax recommended. Look, I blog a lot of stuff but I draw the line at telling the world about everything we do. Let me just say, as a politician might, that we've tried a range of measures.
Meanwhile, life goes on. The See the Sky thingubby on flickr was fun. So much so that there's another event scheduled for Christmas Eve. It showed that there are some dummies on flickr, unable to read, or anyway to understand, a group's description.
Such dummies, I know, exasperate my pal Brendadada, especially as administrator of ETH. And she rightly drew attention to the fact that I'd taken Dawdon off the blogroll; you can get to it from Spliced Differential, but fair enough, it's back where it belongs on the 12 Merry Blogs bit of the blogroll. Sorry, Brend'.
Indeed. Another part of today, aside from forever asking Herself if she was having contractions yet, and cooking that dinner, and some other shenanigans, was checking out Little Hits. A wee bit disappointing. Excellent stuff, in many ways, but mostly four and five piece male bands doing ballads: nothing really original, of the dozen or so I downloaded, anyhow. I like the off the wall stuff I can usually find at Bonfire Radio, especially from the lad 'imself, Pete Ashton.
Oh yes; baby names. How about 'Godot'? I did provide my partner with carrot and turnip whilst we've been waiting...
Raspberry tea's also supposed to be really good. It's said to soften the cervix.
ReplyDeleteWhat do you do with raspberry tea to soften the cervix?
ReplyDeleteThat dinner sounds wonderful! I'd be round there every Sunday if it weren't for the long drive.
I'm ashamed to say I had to look up the Godot reference, but now I understand :o)
ReplyDeleteSo have you had any real ideas for names? Being Welsh in origin, if no longer in location, I love the name Rhodri for a boy (nice and easy to shorten to "Rod") and Rhiannon for a girl (shorten to "Rhi"). Still no plans for all that yet!
Oh bloody hell, we can't stand it. I have no clue about how to get a baby to arrive, mine were both a fornight early and labour started after a long afternoon nap.
ReplyDeleteEntrance to Hell is good fun. I rather like all the slash and burn. But some days it does get tedious, especially when people post pictures of naughty children pulling faces. Wtf is that all about, hmm?
Thanks for putting me back, I appreciate it. Methinks I have some work to do there to correct my readership fall-off over the past two weeks. Grateful thanks for commenting.
If you still have nothing better to do this evening, you might bung a save or delete in the direction of my bird picture, which is extremely boringly occupying a position in DMU I'd like for something else. Somehow that last remark makes me think of wor dear Herself, who must be more fed up than any of us. Chin, chin, Pigstys!
Factobrunt: You drink it, silly. What did you think you're supposed to do with it? (scary mental images running through my head).
ReplyDelete