I found a stash of my old picture books from Eastern Europe in the 50's and 60's yesterday. I'm so happy! They're even more beautiful than I remember. I wanted to take some photos but there's not really any space to take photos at the moment. So this quick scan will have to do for now. More to come!
Le Ballon Rouge (The Red Balloon), written and directed by Albert Lamorisse. I watched this with my parents recently, and they loved it. Can't wait to watch it with the Little Bun (although I'm going to have to wait a little while before I begin peddling cinema classics!) It really is so lovely and magical to watch, and I know it can be read on many levels but visually it's just half an hour of pure delight.
This weekend PB and I set off for an adventure to Newcastle, to visit his Aunty S and Uncle G (who are absolutely awesome). PB is a notorious napper and fell asleep on the train on the way up, although he did get up at 3am to go to work so that was understandable. I like how his outfit matches the train, except for the pop of red in MY socks.
Lots of admin stuff to do today. Bank, bills and boring errands. Thankfully, there was time for some bun-baking in the afternoon sunshine, which begins to flood the bedroom from about 2pm. (See the little bump?) I had just managed to get out a few quick owl squiggles, before I snoozed off...
I mentioned earlier that we had our first hospital appointment with the midwife last week. I've not had positive experiences with hospitals in the past, and PB absolutely dreads them and this visit did nothing to change either of our minds. The whole thing was appalling, from start to finish. The midwife was rude, pressed for time and clearly very disgruntled with her job. I sat while she piled me up with wads of pamphlets – none of which she could elaborate on – feeling comforted only by our earlier discussions of a home birth, the ordeal only cementing in my mind that it's the right thing for us. Originally I had not considered a home birth, I thought women just went to the hospital and that was that. PB dropped the hint a few times, but it wasn't until I stumbled across the beautiful Marvelous Kiddo blog that I really considered it. One morning I sat at my computer reading Leigh's home birth story (images above), and by the end of it I was sobbing into my porridge. I spent the day reading up on the rest of her blog and researching home birth. When PB came home I told him I'd like to consider it, and he was thrilled (being a big old hippie at heart!) I showed him Leigh's story and it almost moved him to tears too. So I guess we can take a positive stance on the icky hospital trip, that's it's not for us! It may be right for some people and that's their choice, but this is ours. We're really excited to be able to welcome our new little friend into a place we love, surrounded by things and sounds and smells we love. But first there is still a lot more bun baking to be done!
PS. Thanks Leigh for your lovely email, and lots of happy wishes for you and your family.
Today we're going for our first visit to the hospital, and then to meet the minister that will marry us. The rest of my weekend will be spent dealing with The Boxes (which extend beyond this photograph.) So no illustration for a little while until I sort this mess out, but if I find anything fun in any of these I'll make sure to share. Stay tuned, and wish me luck.
Our little flat is a mass of brown and white packing boxes. They arrived this morning from Melbourne. They're a mix of my recent stuff from London (books, mostly) and not so recent stuff from Australia (lucky dip, anyone?) I'm hoping to find some forgotten treasures in there, but nonetheless it will be a fun and tiring trip down memory lane. And my poor mum that packed all this and organised to have it sent up! She's one tough lady, which I admire and love to no extent (although she still retains a strong capacity to drive me bonkers at times). Now that my morning sickness has passed and I'm feeling stronger, the emotions are creeping in and I can feel tears welling up at the slightest happy thought. And as I'm on the road to being a mama myself, I'm starting to think more about my own mum and how much she's done for me, and I'm so excited to be able to experience that unconditional love that people have for their children one day.
PS. That's the Bun at 12 weeks, kicking and moving ferociously!
As reluctant as I was about moving to Sydney, I'm really starting to enjoy it here. After almost 5 years of London I was ready to go home, back to Melbourne. But I guess things don't always turn out as planned, and Papa Bear and I have ended up in his home town instead. As much as I love Melbourne for so many reasons I won't even begin to list them, Sydney wins hands down in the weather department. It's sunny here everyday and the nature is amazing. Today we got up nice and early for a long coastal walk. Along the way we met a cool Airdale Terrier named Fluffy. Apparently the grandkids were at liberty to choose the name, much to the owners dismay who would have preferred Cleo or Ziggy. We managed a quick dip in the water, although it was still pretty cold. PB almost chickened out but didn't want to get shown up by a girl, so finally ducked his head under. After a good 4 hours of adventuring I was exhausted, it's hard believe how much energy bun-baking takes up. So needless to say, that afternoon was spent in a sun-drenched siesta on the living room floor, which I'm pretty sure just extended to the bed when the time came. (By bed I mean camping mattress on the floor, we have bought a new bed which is being delivered next week. About time, I kept telling PB that a pregnant lady should not be sleeping in these conditions!)