finally finally finally
it's the most [insert adjective] time of the year

all hallows

From the forest that my father planted, under whose shade he knew he'd never sit. A good Da visiting place. 

If the planning permission can be finagled, we plan to convert the stables in my Ma's house into a wee house for us. This seems the right thing to do, though I am taking a leettle time to adjust to the idea. There are pros and cons, that being the nature of things. It's a very pretty place, of course, there's that. Foresty and grassy, with deer and foxes, a lovely place to grow up, you would hope. My parents lived there since 1989 only, so it was my family home for only a few years before I flew the proverbial, but I did enjoy living there. There's always something to do in the country, funnily enough, there's always a dog that had pups or some blackberries to pick, or a hawk to spot, you'd be alone but never lonely. (Not like in town, where everyone else seems to be enjoying a hilarious joke over a pint of Guinness. (Could be just me.)) Jay can go to the local school and have an outdoorsy sort of life, quite different from what we have in our more gritty part of Dublin, of which I have grown so fond. He'll have a different accent, his friends will have The Latest Gear and he'll go probably go on school holidays to Paris. He'll be less likely to be in school with other minorities, too. It'll be Quite White and Fairly Affluent. It's about an hour drive to town, or a long and slightly inconvenient drive-train-walk but quite possible all the same to keep up with my beloved tribe. 
Ooh, but I am Very Excited about converting the Stables, on the other hand! It'll be like my own episode of Fixer Upper!
Also, space, space. No more walking Jay up and down the same 11 steps between his room and our window and back, and up and back, to get him to sleep. He's had a chest infection this week, poor kid, so I am extra-twitchy on the subject.

He's going through a huge learning phase at the moment; you can practically see the sparks fly. He pokes screens, thinking they are touch screens. He's learnt how to pause and change programs on the washing machine - he plays that thing like Charlie Parker. He notices everything, tries to catch shadows and steam, laughs, complains, has a big personality. He is not quite walking but nearly nearly is - but he's added Show Pony and Prancer to his crawl repertoire and stands holding on to my leg very easily. We go to toddler groups (hence: germs) and he gives things to other kids and feeds us. A soggy piece of bread off the floor, just what I always wanted! He's smiley. He's worked out how to open the childproof locks on my bedside table drawer, but he politely closes it again after ransacking the interior. He hides his face when he feels shy, he gets frustrated and throws mini-tantrums, he stares at you carefully when you explain something to him. He's fabulous, glorious, wonderful. 

He's been referred to the physio and speech therapist for some finger-wagging (what's up with these people? Do they not like children?) but I am not worried at all. He's smart, he'll be fine. 

And that concludes the update from the mild and calm for now Western Seaboard of Europe.
Happy Halloe'en, everyone! I have some candy to give away but what with the chest infection have not managed to decorate. (Fast forward to the JB and I gobbling Penguin bars in a darkened kitchen?)

Hope you're all well, kind readers.



turning stables into a wee house is one thing. Moving there and leaving current place is a different thing. But you are thinking of doing both, right?
But, from my Dutch perspective, you still have three years or so before you have to choose a school? So for the next pre-school era you could drive up and down depending on work? How would it work for your work? Would the JB have to drive every day to city?
oh oh, so many questions.

Standing is such a lovely new era. This weekend I played with my 9 month old cousin/nephew? ( i never remember, sorry) who could only just sit and crawl. I had to watch out for him not to crash his head into a tile floor toppling side or backwards. But he was so eager to climb up to my necklace or glasses. (daycare nicknamed him the slug on account of leaving a slime trace behind when crawling. Suzy thought it yuckie. )

I shall watch some episodes of Fixer Upper if I can find out how.
Otherwise I shall have to come over and see for myself...

from Amsterdam with Love,


Happy Halloween! Converting the stables sounds...challenging and fun and horrifying and like it will be great for all in the long run. (I hated building our house - there were too many decisions to make and too many details to deal with. Plus, I specifically told my husband that I did not want to participate, but guess who had to be there every free day?)

Love the Jay updates, although I'm sorry to hear he's got a chest infection. It's so worrisome when they're sick. Here's hoping the therapists meet him and say "I have no idea why he's here. He doesn't need to be."

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