Rediscovering the Childish Fascination of Simple Things

The good thing about having grandchildren is that you get to experience the simple pleasures, like going out for a walk in the woods and meadow to point out all the wonderful spring flowers that often you'd pass by. Luca is endlessly curious - and in the 'Why?' phase! - so he makes me think about things in a way I wouldn't normally. For instance, 'What's the sky for?' asked the other day when it was very blue. Good question! If he'd asked what it was made of, or why it was blue, that might have been simpler (if difficult for him to understand), but what's it for? I'll have to think about that.

Meanwhile, here's the walk Luca and I enjoyed a few days ago in the nearby wood and meadow. I hope you enjoy it too.

Off we go! "Pack pack" at the ready. (It was only filled with toys!)

Anemones. Try saying that after a few drinks!

Lesser Celandine

Bluebells. The woods in the village used to have about three times
as many, but tree pruning has taken the shade loved by this flower.

Great Hairy Willowherb?

What treasure has he found?

We've reached the meadow. In a couple of months the
whole area will be filled with wild flowers.

Once on the meadow we found the more humble buttercup,
a welcome sight nonetheless.

Clumps of cheery dandelions.

Cowslips. The meadow is filled currently with yellow flowers.

You can read about my writing adventures with fellow scribe Elaine Roberts on our blog Write Minds Write Place

@FCapaldiBurgess

Prog Rock Baby

Dear little LHG, at nearly four months old, is going through that time in his life when
he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

He’s alert enough to take an interest in all sorts of things, but not mobile enough to
be able to sit up on his own and join in. Imagine how frustrating it must be to rely on
someone else to prop you up so you can do stuff. He’s just started to have some
hand control, taking a swipe at toys in the hope they do something. Often he’s
rewarded with a squeak, a rattle, the manic neighing of a plastic horse or a twee
voice asking, ‘What’s the weather like?’ On these occasions, his eyes widen and his
mouth opens in surprise.

He loves noise, creating it and just listening to it. And if there’s one thing that can be
(almost) guaranteed to calm him down when he’s ratty and can’t settle to anything,
it’s music. Giovanna only has to put on a track by Beethoven, Mozart or some other
classical composer and he’s instantly quiet.

‘I expect you to be able to play this when you’re three,’ she told a mesmerised LHG
the other day, referring to Rondo alla Turca (the Mozart piece played by Mrs Hurst in
Colin Firth’s Pride and Prejudice, for those of you who are fans - and who isn’t?). A
little ambitious maybe, but his mummy, daddy, aunty and uncles and two great
grandads are (/were) either musicians or musical, so why not?

Of course, while Giovanna wistfully imagines him playing wonderfully complex
classical pieces on the piano, Daddy JW and uncle Peter might have other ideas.
JW is a drummer who teaches youngsters to play. Uncle Peter, a rock guitarist who
also dabbles in electronica, has his nephew earmarked as the next Jimi Hendrix.

And LHG himself is showing early signs of interest in prog rock. In the car, crying fit
to bust at the indignation of being put in the car seat, a burst of Genesis or Yes will
relax him and he’s comatose for the rest of the journey.

For the moment all he can manage is a tiny plastic maraca, and I’m always afraid
he’s going to whack himself in the eye with that. Still, it won’t be long before he can
hit Daddy’s drums with a stick. Then we might all be regretting any musical
ambitions we had for him!

Shopping with baby

With LHG a little over a week old, Giovanna and I decided to take him on his first shopping trip to the Big Shops. She only needed nursing bras, I wanted to pick up a some shower spray and a magazine. How hard could that be?

Well, for a start, I have no idea how a person, let alone one who's not long given birth, would cope with that pushchair on their own. It took two of us to fold it down (when we'd worked out how to do it!) and put it in the boot of the car. It barely fitted, despite the boot being a decent size, and we had to detach the body from the frame. Individually, each piece weighed a ton, so I can't imagine how anybody would lift it normally.

Sadly, LHG was clearly not enamoured of his pushchair. No, not nearly as good as being held in someone's arms. The only thing it was good for was carrying the shopping. Did you know that every shop is set out as a slalom for pushchairs and prams? I had been ignorant of this purpose till I started to negotiate them. And when your pushchair has a will of its own (and boy, does this one have a will of its own), places like Lakeland become scary. I don't remember it being this hard with a pram all those years ago. Imagine trying to steer a toddler as well.

With LHG getting worked up, we decided it was a good point to stop for lunch, With the two of us enjoying a sandwich and a cup of coffee, it would have been an ideal time for him to tuck in himself. So what did he do? Fell asleep, little mouth open, away with the fairies.

Later, with Giovanna trying to find nursing bras in her size, he awoke once again. She carried and jiggled and rocked while I searched, then I carried and jiggled and rocked while she searched for this illusive size. Finally, with only two such bras in existence it seemed, we headed for the till. LHG was not only screaming by this point, but smelly. I headed off for the baby change rooms while Giovanna parted with much cash (have you seen the price of nursing bras?). My grandson hates, abhors and detests having his nappy changed, so by the time Giovanna turned up, he was in full, red-faced screeching mode. She sat and fed him while I escaped to buy my magazine.

Four hours after we'd set off, we arrived home, exhausted. Unlike a lot of babies, LHG doesn't fall asleep in the car.

A few days later, we repeated the shopping experience with Great Grandad TC and my step mother-in-law, Great Grandma C. After a couple of hours of pass the baby, the grandparents went ahead and started whispering to each other. Were they sorry they'd ever started on this shopping trip? Were they planning their escape? No, it seems they'd come up with an idea. While I danced and jiggled with LHG, they took Giovanna to look at baby slings. She chose a simple, fabric one. He snuggled in and was out like a light.

So far it's been a great success.