Ok. So. I've moved again.
This time, I'm blogging at accidentalorganist.blogspot.co.uk .
My professional website has also moved, after the last one got hacked by some group claiming to have links to the Algerian monarchy (no, I have no idea either): www.catherineprady.co.uk .
Hope to see you there!
Friday, 22 January 2016
Wednesday, 24 April 2013
Redirecting...
So. I haven't been around here much of late. Things got busy, and then, well, I'm never really sure what's worth writing about, and then I worry about not having photos, or just not having anything interesting to say.
What IS interesting, though - or, at least, I think so! - is all the silly stuff you find in old books.
Just a taster:
"A breastfeeding mother or nurse should drink diluted wine at mealtimes, and between meals should drink sufficient quantities of light beer or cider". -Larousse Ménager, 1923.
For more fun with old books, come and visit us at our new home:
treasureinmybookcase.wordpress.com
Alternatively, my professional alter ego is now lurking at www.catherineprady.com . Not the most fun website in the world ever, but if you need something translating, you know where to go!
What IS interesting, though - or, at least, I think so! - is all the silly stuff you find in old books.
Just a taster:
"A breastfeeding mother or nurse should drink diluted wine at mealtimes, and between meals should drink sufficient quantities of light beer or cider". -Larousse Ménager, 1923.
For more fun with old books, come and visit us at our new home:
treasureinmybookcase.wordpress.com
Alternatively, my professional alter ego is now lurking at www.catherineprady.com . Not the most fun website in the world ever, but if you need something translating, you know where to go!
Friday, 7 September 2012
Don't underestimate the housewife
So. This morning, we had a visit from the Jehovah's Witnesses. I do enjoy a good theological debate (yes, really), so I invited them in. Guess what? They said no. They wanted to talk to my husband.
I don't think their refusal was entirely motivated by misogyny (one of them was a woman...), but it may well have had something to do with the fact that, in their eyes, I was "just a little housewife".
Now. A word to the wise: Don't underestimate the housewife.
She:
So, to get to the point, any housewife is more than worth talking to. Maybe the man is the head of the household - but to paraphrase the mother in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, "the woman is the neck, and she can turn the head aaaaany way she wants".
Also, this particular housewife has two masters' degrees and runs her own company. Just sayin', missionaries. Just sayin'.
I don't think their refusal was entirely motivated by misogyny (one of them was a woman...), but it may well have had something to do with the fact that, in their eyes, I was "just a little housewife".
Now. A word to the wise: Don't underestimate the housewife.
She:
- looks after children, and is the one to introduce them to the world. In religious terms, faith is often passed on through the mother - just look at the traditions in Judaism.
- from a political/economic perspective, she is generally responsible for most of the household outgoings - who's writing the shopping lists round here? Oh yes. ME.
- is also a cook-driver-cleaner-teacher-nurse-nanny-painter-interior designer-planner... the list goes on.
So, to get to the point, any housewife is more than worth talking to. Maybe the man is the head of the household - but to paraphrase the mother in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, "the woman is the neck, and she can turn the head aaaaany way she wants".
Also, this particular housewife has two masters' degrees and runs her own company. Just sayin', missionaries. Just sayin'.
Tuesday, 5 June 2012
Strawberries!
This time last year, we had a bit of a problem with cherries - our cherry tree was massively productive, we didn't have a freezer and we couldn't even give them away because everyone else in the village had the same problem.
This year, we had a very hard winter and it froze too late for the cherry trees to be happy. Our tree has literally (and I use the word in the full knowledge of its meaning) no cherries on it (well, there were two, but something ate them before they had time to ripen). The neighbours are having the same problem.
The strawberries, however... now that's a different story! We inherited a fairly large strawberry patch when we bought the house, and, despite the slugs' best efforts, we've had 4.7 kilos (just over 10 pounds) of strawberries in five days.
So, what are we doing with all these strawberries?
This should give you an idea... :-)
This year, we had a very hard winter and it froze too late for the cherry trees to be happy. Our tree has literally (and I use the word in the full knowledge of its meaning) no cherries on it (well, there were two, but something ate them before they had time to ripen). The neighbours are having the same problem.
The strawberries, however... now that's a different story! We inherited a fairly large strawberry patch when we bought the house, and, despite the slugs' best efforts, we've had 4.7 kilos (just over 10 pounds) of strawberries in five days.
So, what are we doing with all these strawberries?
This should give you an idea... :-)
Thursday, 31 May 2012
Slug Wars
So. As I mentioned yesterday, we've been having a bit of an issue with slugs of late. This being the case, we decided to strike back (mwahaha! People/things thinking of stealing our food, BE WARNED).
Obviously, our first choice of weapon would be a hedgehog. We've been doing our best to encourage them - we even have a very hedgehog-friendly heap of old branches under the pine tree at the bottom of the garden - but we don't seem to have had much luck so far. We don't really want to resort to chemicals (we have a small, nearly-crawling person round here who sticks EVERYTHING in her mouth at the moment), so we've adopted another tactic.
The solution? BEER.
We'd heard that slugs liked beer, and there were a couple of half-bottles left over after a barbecue we had on Sunday, so we set a couple of traps - just a couple of inches of beer in the bottom of two jam jars. One went next to the strawberry patch, the other in the herb beds.
On Tuesday morning, we went out to check the traps before breakfast, and there were seventeen (yes, I counted them) slugs in the herb bed trap. The other trap was rather less successful, but the fact that Ze Husband had carried out a MSM (Massive Slug Massacre) operation in that area the night before probably had something to do with it.
We shall emerge victorious! We SHALL!
Obviously, our first choice of weapon would be a hedgehog. We've been doing our best to encourage them - we even have a very hedgehog-friendly heap of old branches under the pine tree at the bottom of the garden - but we don't seem to have had much luck so far. We don't really want to resort to chemicals (we have a small, nearly-crawling person round here who sticks EVERYTHING in her mouth at the moment), so we've adopted another tactic.
The solution? BEER.
We'd heard that slugs liked beer, and there were a couple of half-bottles left over after a barbecue we had on Sunday, so we set a couple of traps - just a couple of inches of beer in the bottom of two jam jars. One went next to the strawberry patch, the other in the herb beds.
On Tuesday morning, we went out to check the traps before breakfast, and there were seventeen (yes, I counted them) slugs in the herb bed trap. The other trap was rather less successful, but the fact that Ze Husband had carried out a MSM (Massive Slug Massacre) operation in that area the night before probably had something to do with it.
We shall emerge victorious! We SHALL!
Wednesday, 30 May 2012
A Tale of Two Salads
It's Summer, and it's hot, meaning it's salad time again around here.
We thought we'd try being organised this year, so a few weeks ago, we bought a dozen lettuce and rocket seedlings. Well, not exactly a dozen - it was a gardener's dozen, twelve for us and "some for the slugs". Our slugs, however, are particularly greedy creatures. Within a week of planting the seedlings out, there were only three rocket plants left and no lettuces AT ALL. Then, they moved on to the radishes. They don't seem to be interested in the roots, but the poor plants have had to put all of their energy into regrowing their leaves and not into the part we're actually interested in.
On Saturday afternoon, I planted a pepper plant in my herb beds. Note that these herb beds are in window boxes at some distance from the main garden, next to the front door, on a hard path. On Sunday morning, there was NO PEPPER PLANT. The slugs had struck yet again.
That was the first of the two salads- a great big gigantinormous hypothetical salad which we WILL NOT GET TO EAT because of the EVIL SLUGS.
The second of the two salads was last night's salade composée, which was a particularly good one, so I thought I'd pass on the recipe. Its name? Norman. Norman the Salad.
I should explain...
Salads in France often have names. Salade Niçoise is one of the best known versions. Last night's sald was a Salade Normande, including traditional ingredients from Normandy, or, in other words, a Norman Salad. See? Norman the Salad.
Without further ado, here are the ingredients...
Half a red lettuce, shredded
1 apple, diced
5 inches cucumber, diced
A few sprigs of parsley (the slugs haven't eaten all of that yet...)
1/4 Camembert, chopped into small pieces (note: use a Camembert that's not too close to its use-by date for this one, otherwise it's impossible to cut up, it just oozes)
Croutons/ torn-up stale bread, fried in a little olive oil
Stick ingredients in bowl. Add dressing to taste (I recommend vinaigrette made with walnut mustard- it's AMAZING). Mix. Eat. Om nom nom. Serves 2 as a main meal with bread, more as a side dish/starter.
Sorry for the lack of phototage... next time I'll remember. Promise.
We thought we'd try being organised this year, so a few weeks ago, we bought a dozen lettuce and rocket seedlings. Well, not exactly a dozen - it was a gardener's dozen, twelve for us and "some for the slugs". Our slugs, however, are particularly greedy creatures. Within a week of planting the seedlings out, there were only three rocket plants left and no lettuces AT ALL. Then, they moved on to the radishes. They don't seem to be interested in the roots, but the poor plants have had to put all of their energy into regrowing their leaves and not into the part we're actually interested in.
On Saturday afternoon, I planted a pepper plant in my herb beds. Note that these herb beds are in window boxes at some distance from the main garden, next to the front door, on a hard path. On Sunday morning, there was NO PEPPER PLANT. The slugs had struck yet again.
That was the first of the two salads- a great big gigantinormous hypothetical salad which we WILL NOT GET TO EAT because of the EVIL SLUGS.
The second of the two salads was last night's salade composée, which was a particularly good one, so I thought I'd pass on the recipe. Its name? Norman. Norman the Salad.
I should explain...
Salads in France often have names. Salade Niçoise is one of the best known versions. Last night's sald was a Salade Normande, including traditional ingredients from Normandy, or, in other words, a Norman Salad. See? Norman the Salad.
Without further ado, here are the ingredients...
Half a red lettuce, shredded
1 apple, diced
5 inches cucumber, diced
A few sprigs of parsley (the slugs haven't eaten all of that yet...)
1/4 Camembert, chopped into small pieces (note: use a Camembert that's not too close to its use-by date for this one, otherwise it's impossible to cut up, it just oozes)
Croutons/ torn-up stale bread, fried in a little olive oil
Stick ingredients in bowl. Add dressing to taste (I recommend vinaigrette made with walnut mustard- it's AMAZING). Mix. Eat. Om nom nom. Serves 2 as a main meal with bread, more as a side dish/starter.
Sorry for the lack of phototage... next time I'll remember. Promise.
Thursday, 3 May 2012
Fun with Vegetables
When, sometime last year, my sisters and I saw a Youtube video with a man playing the Zelda theme tune on a musical instrument made entirely of broccoli, we couldn't resist...
(Please note that the vegetables in question had been deigned no longer fit for human consumption and were on their way to be fed to the chickens).
We didn't quite manage to make the vegetables entirely playable on their own, but with the addition of a clarinet mouthpiece, we were able to produce recognisable tunes. The clarinet bell on the carrot was there to improve the tuning.. and for aesthetic effect!
(Please note that the vegetables in question had been deigned no longer fit for human consumption and were on their way to be fed to the chickens).
We didn't quite manage to make the vegetables entirely playable on their own, but with the addition of a clarinet mouthpiece, we were able to produce recognisable tunes. The clarinet bell on the carrot was there to improve the tuning.. and for aesthetic effect!
Thursday, 16 February 2012
Thoughts on Nappies
Gooooood moooorning the Internets!
About two months ago, I wrote this post and a few of you left comments on the subject of nappies/diapers, so I thought you might be interested in our findings. (If not, feel free to stop reading now. I'llsend the gnomes after you forgive you eventually. Maybe).
Before we go any further, I should clarify a few points:
With encouragement from my mother, I also bought a pack of 12 terry nappies (cloth squares) - I had my doubts as to the practicality of the thing, but I told myself that squares of flannel would always come in useful, if only as spare burp cloths. That said, my parents used the flannel square - nappy liner- pins - nappy protector system on five of us, so I thought I'd give it a try.
Results?
We're completely convinced by terry nappies. Firstly, they're washable, which was what we were going for, after all. Secondly, we have had NO LEAKAGE. Thirdly, they dry, on a clothes horse, inside, in winter, in under 24 hours. The other two washable nappies were fine, but they take just as long to put on and take much longer to dry (we do use them, but only when we've run out of squares). Admittedly, we do still use disposables when we're out so we don't have to cart dirty nappies around with us, but we're talking five or six nappies a week, no more. Even Ze Husband, who has more reservations than I did to start with, has been completely won over and is getting rather good at nappy folding.
So, there you have it - obviously this is just what works for us, and I understand just how lucky we are to have the leisure to do this. If I didn't work from home it would be very difficult to use anything other than disposables, and with little ones, anything that helps parents to maintain some semblance of sanity can only be a good thing! :-)
Off to put the washer on now - I wonder why?
About two months ago, I wrote this post and a few of you left comments on the subject of nappies/diapers, so I thought you might be interested in our findings. (If not, feel free to stop reading now. I'll
Before we go any further, I should clarify a few points:
- We have a washing machine. I would never consider washable nappies without one...
- ...but we don't have a drier, and have no intention of getting one. We do have a washing line, so everything will be great in summer, but for now, getting things dry is a significant issue.
- I'm not sure the idea of a nappy/diaper service has even reached France, let alone our tiny village.
- We had our reservations about disposables mainly because of the environmental impact (the quantity of landfill they produce, more than anything else - the energy involved in manufacturing appears to be comparable to that involved in washing cloth nappies). They do make good biodegradable disposables these days- we had some when Ze Baby was tiny and they were great - but they are a more expensive option.
- I work from home (when I do work) and it's very much a part-time thing, so getting loads of laundry done isn't a problem.
- I'm fairly organised as a general rule, but I did worry about running out of nappies (Ze Husband is often away for work and in these cases I'd struggle to get to the shops). With washable nappies, this is not an issue.
With encouragement from my mother, I also bought a pack of 12 terry nappies (cloth squares) - I had my doubts as to the practicality of the thing, but I told myself that squares of flannel would always come in useful, if only as spare burp cloths. That said, my parents used the flannel square - nappy liner- pins - nappy protector system on five of us, so I thought I'd give it a try.
Results?
We're completely convinced by terry nappies. Firstly, they're washable, which was what we were going for, after all. Secondly, we have had NO LEAKAGE. Thirdly, they dry, on a clothes horse, inside, in winter, in under 24 hours. The other two washable nappies were fine, but they take just as long to put on and take much longer to dry (we do use them, but only when we've run out of squares). Admittedly, we do still use disposables when we're out so we don't have to cart dirty nappies around with us, but we're talking five or six nappies a week, no more. Even Ze Husband, who has more reservations than I did to start with, has been completely won over and is getting rather good at nappy folding.
So, there you have it - obviously this is just what works for us, and I understand just how lucky we are to have the leisure to do this. If I didn't work from home it would be very difficult to use anything other than disposables, and with little ones, anything that helps parents to maintain some semblance of sanity can only be a good thing! :-)
Off to put the washer on now - I wonder why?
Tuesday, 7 February 2012
It's cold outside...
...no, I'm not just stating the obvious (although it is REALLY REALLY COLD at home. Well, we do live in the terres froides, so it's probably to be expected...)
I suspect, for most people, the musical associations attached to these words have something to do with a certain hairy Welshman (erm...Tom Jones, that is).
For me, though, the conjunction of growing up in Britain in the mid-to-late 80s with my parents' tastes in television mean that "It's cold outside..." leads to THIS:
(the words kick in at about 0:45).
As far as I know, this was the only song my dad ever sang to me as a child. (N.B.: Not a sob story. My dad just doesn't sing).
How on EARTH was I supposed to grow up to be anything other than a geek?
Monday, 23 January 2012
In which the penguins return
I really did think, for a minute, we'd escaped them for good.
And then, there was The Beast (see this post, he's lurking in the background of the bump picture). He arrived in the UK in August and came back to France with us in the back seat of the car. Thankfully Customs didn't stop us, because we didn't have a passport for him.
And then... they started coming for Ze Baby. First, a friend sent us some adorable penguin bootees (thanks Caroline!). Lovely, practical penguins making themselves useful.
Then there was this from my brother, and my sister gave her a penguin glove puppet for Christmas.
They also appear to be working in more subtle ways. The Original Penguin (who even had his own Facebook account at one point...) goes by the name of Carrot. Anyone who was at our wedding (or has seen pictures) will be aware that we have a certain prediliction for cuddly vegetables round here... and the carrot tally, at the last count, was up to FOUR, plus a pair of orange socks with rather suspicious green frills around the top.
You know what? I GIVE IN. Penguins, you've WON.
They also appear to be working in more subtle ways. The Original Penguin (who even had his own Facebook account at one point...) goes by the name of Carrot. Anyone who was at our wedding (or has seen pictures) will be aware that we have a certain prediliction for cuddly vegetables round here... and the carrot tally, at the last count, was up to FOUR, plus a pair of orange socks with rather suspicious green frills around the top.
You know what? I GIVE IN. Penguins, you've WON.
Monday, 28 November 2011
This time last month...
Right. Well. I think you can probably guess why I haven't been around for the last month...
Yes. The Baby-Formerly-Known-as-Squidlet was (finally) born on 28th October, and has been keeping Ze Husband and I busy ever since with the whole feeding/nappy changing/feeding/nappy changing thing. So far, we're managing... I've had to reduce my expectations in terms of sleep quite considerably, but I take comfort from the fact that this situation is temporary and I will get some sleep at some point! (Naps are clearly the way forward, in any case. Who needs to sleep for more than three hours at a time, anyway?).
The Baby-Formerly-Known-as-Squidlet managed to acquire a couple of new names (quite apart from her real name) in the days after her birth, and will henceforth be known as Baby Mole/Bébé Taupe. She was born with quite a lot of hair, which, contrary to the expectations of everyone except her mother, is dark brown and not blonde. Add to that the fact that her eyes were practically black at birth, general newborn short-sightedness and the way she moves her hands when she's looking for milk, and she really did look a lot like a mole... The moleishness has worn off now, but the name has stuck.
We've decided not to post pictures on open-access parts of the internet (or Facebook, for that matter), but if we know you in real life, drop us a line and we'll send you a link.
Now, people of the Internets. Time for you lot to help me with this whole baby thing...
We're thinking about switching to washable nappies (or diapers, for those on the other side of the Atlantic). Thoughts? Suggestions? Recommendations? Patterns? (Yes, I'm thinking of at least attempting to make one or two to see how that works out. Trying different options here).
Oh, and I also appear to be addicted to Speculoos. Please send help (or more biscuits).
Yes. The Baby-Formerly-Known-as-Squidlet was (finally) born on 28th October, and has been keeping Ze Husband and I busy ever since with the whole feeding/nappy changing/feeding/nappy changing thing. So far, we're managing... I've had to reduce my expectations in terms of sleep quite considerably, but I take comfort from the fact that this situation is temporary and I will get some sleep at some point! (Naps are clearly the way forward, in any case. Who needs to sleep for more than three hours at a time, anyway?).
The Baby-Formerly-Known-as-Squidlet managed to acquire a couple of new names (quite apart from her real name) in the days after her birth, and will henceforth be known as Baby Mole/Bébé Taupe. She was born with quite a lot of hair, which, contrary to the expectations of everyone except her mother, is dark brown and not blonde. Add to that the fact that her eyes were practically black at birth, general newborn short-sightedness and the way she moves her hands when she's looking for milk, and she really did look a lot like a mole... The moleishness has worn off now, but the name has stuck.
We've decided not to post pictures on open-access parts of the internet (or Facebook, for that matter), but if we know you in real life, drop us a line and we'll send you a link.
Now, people of the Internets. Time for you lot to help me with this whole baby thing...
We're thinking about switching to washable nappies (or diapers, for those on the other side of the Atlantic). Thoughts? Suggestions? Recommendations? Patterns? (Yes, I'm thinking of at least attempting to make one or two to see how that works out. Trying different options here).
Oh, and I also appear to be addicted to Speculoos. Please send help (or more biscuits).
Thursday, 27 October 2011
39 weeks
So. After all that, the Squidlet seems to have decided she's in no hurry to come out after all, and we've got to 39 1/2 weeks. Because of her early escape attempt, I've been more or less mentally prepared for her to turn up for the last three of those weeks, and I'm starting to get a bit frustrated.
Also, it's gone relatively cold here, which would be fine except I only have one pair of maternity jeans. Cue cut-offs with knee socks on the days my jeans are in the wash... the giraffe print socks look particularly classy. Oh yes.
(No, I don't go out much, why do you ask?)
Come ON, Squidlet. I want to be able to wear skirts again. And to be able to walk at normal speeds. Anddrink vast quantities of beer eat things with raw eggs in. I have plans for a chestnut tiramisù which are becoming increasingly urgent.
Oh, and while we're at it: one bump picture.
I wasn't consciously attempting to imitate the penguin in the corner, either. Honest.
Also, it's gone relatively cold here, which would be fine except I only have one pair of maternity jeans. Cue cut-offs with knee socks on the days my jeans are in the wash... the giraffe print socks look particularly classy. Oh yes.
(No, I don't go out much, why do you ask?)
Come ON, Squidlet. I want to be able to wear skirts again. And to be able to walk at normal speeds. And
Oh, and while we're at it: one bump picture.
Tuesday, 25 October 2011
Rawr!
You may vaguely remember me talking about a top secret project a while back, the results of which I would not be able to reveal until after our wedding anniversary.
Sorry to have left you all in suspense for so long. No, really, the stress of not knowing must have been dreadful. :-p
Here, without further ado, is what I was up to:
For those of you who don't understand the French (or the original dinosaur), it says "RAWR! (that means "I love you" in dinosaur).
The inspiration came from a couple of tshirts I found on the internet with the same caption (in English) and from Subversive Cross Stitch, an idea I find extremely appealing in principle although I don't see why they have to use swear words all the time. I don't usually have much patience with cross stitch and my inability to finish a project is widely recognised, but what with being on bed rest at the time and all that, this time it did actually work. And yay for using up bits of leftover embroidery silk!
Sorry to have left you all in suspense for so long. No, really, the stress of not knowing must have been dreadful. :-p
Here, without further ado, is what I was up to:
For those of you who don't understand the French (or the original dinosaur), it says "RAWR! (that means "I love you" in dinosaur).
The inspiration came from a couple of tshirts I found on the internet with the same caption (in English) and from Subversive Cross Stitch, an idea I find extremely appealing in principle although I don't see why they have to use swear words all the time. I don't usually have much patience with cross stitch and my inability to finish a project is widely recognised, but what with being on bed rest at the time and all that, this time it did actually work. And yay for using up bits of leftover embroidery silk!
Friday, 21 October 2011
Angry Bird
We moved house a couple of weeks ago, and I'm still getting used to the house - every place has its own crashes and bangs that happen in the course of a normal day, and I've always found it takes a little while to get used to them (cue lots of jumping up and down to see what's going on).
The other day, I heard some strange banging noises coming from upstairs. Beingpregnant and tired downright lazy, I decided not to go and find out what was going on. Half an hour later, the same noise started up again, but coming from street level. I looked out of the window, only to see a crow crashing repeatedly into the neighbours' front window. I wasn't sure whether to put this down to birdbrained idiocy or possible avian alcoholism.
Yesterday, the crow was back, and this time it was clearly attacking its reflection in our bedroom window. Thank goodness we have double glazing- the way it was going, I think it might have broken anything more fragile.
That is one seriously angry bird.
The other day, I heard some strange banging noises coming from upstairs. Being
Yesterday, the crow was back, and this time it was clearly attacking its reflection in our bedroom window. Thank goodness we have double glazing- the way it was going, I think it might have broken anything more fragile.
That is one seriously angry bird.
Thursday, 6 October 2011
Of Babies and Blackadder
If you've been following French news closely, you may be aware that the midwives are Not Happy at the moment. In all honesty, I think they're right to be annoyed- their work really is undervalued and the service they provide is fantastic.
That's not really what this post's about, though. No no no.
The French word for midwife is sage-femme, which means, literally... wait for it...
Wisewoman.
"Two things, my lord, must thee know of the Wisewoman. First, she is... a woman! ...and second, she is..."
"Wise?"
"You do know her, then?"
It's just one of those things that make the constant prodding and poking with needles more bearable.
That's not really what this post's about, though. No no no.
The French word for midwife is sage-femme, which means, literally... wait for it...
Wisewoman.
"Two things, my lord, must thee know of the Wisewoman. First, she is... a woman! ...and second, she is..."
"Wise?"
"You do know her, then?"
It's just one of those things that make the constant prodding and poking with needles more bearable.
Tuesday, 4 October 2011
Update
No, there are still no bump pictures. I have found the camera charger, but in the meantime, we've misplaced the camera. It'll show up eventually, and then YES, if the Squidlet hasn't arrived by then, there will be a bump picture or two!
Now. In case anyone was wondering, I thought I'd post a bupdate (bump update) because Things have been Happening.
Two weeks ago, at my 8th-month checkup, the midwife put me on bedrest for two weeks with anti-contraction medication because things were a bit further on than they should have been at 34 weeks, I'd had some pains the weekend before, and, well, they'd rather the Squidlet stayed put for a bit longer. The bedrest couldn't really have come at a worse time, covering the week before and the week after we moved house, and Ze Husband was en deplacement (away) in Eindhoven for the second week. I did manage to behave myself, though, and, erm, "supervised" the move from a safe (but frustrating) distance. For the second week, I went to stay with the inlaws, A) in case anything happened and B) because our house was still in chaos (also, no running water - a minor problem, clearly).
Last Friday, in spite of the rest and medication, I started having pains again. I eventually phoned the hospital, who told me to have a hot bath, take even more medication, and come in if things didn't improve. The bath and medication seemed to do the trick, so I went to bed.
Saturday, more of the same, only this time, I was having definite contractions on top of the general background pain at fairly regular intervals. We headed to the hospital mid-afternoon to see what was going on. At this point, I was at 35 weeks and 6 days- note that here, a baby born at 36 weeks can be considered full term if they've reached a certain weight. After 6 hours of monitoring, prodding, various blood tests and a scan, they gave me even stronger anti-contraction medication, on the understanding that if that didn't work they'd let things run their course, and sent me home.
That's more or less how things stand for now. I'm coming off all medication on Saturday or if things start moving again before then, and the general consensus is that the Squidlet is not likely to want to stay in for much longer. The scan showed she's a decent size and weight, with no visible health problems, and they haven't found any conditions which might have provoked the contractions- so it all seems to be down to the Squidlet herself having decided it's time.
Off to practice mental metric/imperial weight conversions now- I can't deal with baby weights being in kilos, it just seems wrong somehow!
Now. In case anyone was wondering, I thought I'd post a bupdate (bump update) because Things have been Happening.
Two weeks ago, at my 8th-month checkup, the midwife put me on bedrest for two weeks with anti-contraction medication because things were a bit further on than they should have been at 34 weeks, I'd had some pains the weekend before, and, well, they'd rather the Squidlet stayed put for a bit longer. The bedrest couldn't really have come at a worse time, covering the week before and the week after we moved house, and Ze Husband was en deplacement (away) in Eindhoven for the second week. I did manage to behave myself, though, and, erm, "supervised" the move from a safe (but frustrating) distance. For the second week, I went to stay with the inlaws, A) in case anything happened and B) because our house was still in chaos (also, no running water - a minor problem, clearly).
Last Friday, in spite of the rest and medication, I started having pains again. I eventually phoned the hospital, who told me to have a hot bath, take even more medication, and come in if things didn't improve. The bath and medication seemed to do the trick, so I went to bed.
Saturday, more of the same, only this time, I was having definite contractions on top of the general background pain at fairly regular intervals. We headed to the hospital mid-afternoon to see what was going on. At this point, I was at 35 weeks and 6 days- note that here, a baby born at 36 weeks can be considered full term if they've reached a certain weight. After 6 hours of monitoring, prodding, various blood tests and a scan, they gave me even stronger anti-contraction medication, on the understanding that if that didn't work they'd let things run their course, and sent me home.
That's more or less how things stand for now. I'm coming off all medication on Saturday or if things start moving again before then, and the general consensus is that the Squidlet is not likely to want to stay in for much longer. The scan showed she's a decent size and weight, with no visible health problems, and they haven't found any conditions which might have provoked the contractions- so it all seems to be down to the Squidlet herself having decided it's time.
Off to practice mental metric/imperial weight conversions now- I can't deal with baby weights being in kilos, it just seems wrong somehow!
Sunday, 25 September 2011
One Year
One year ago today, Ze Boy graduated to the status of Ze Husband, and I became the third Catherine Prady in the family (a potentially confusing situation, but it hasn't posed any particular problems so far). It all still seems a bit surreal- the wedding part, at least. Marriage itself is (reassuringly) very real, even without the Squidlet kicking me in the ribs periodically to remind me...
(Warning: Those averse to mloo-mlee-mlooting might wish to look away now).
This has been the best year of my life so far, and I'm looking forward, God willing, to a lot more like it. Yes, marriage means adjustments. Yes, it means I have to change my ideas of what constitutes an acceptable level of tidy in our office, and, generally, put up with all that stuff that comes with LIVING WITH A BOY. But I will always have someone to whinge at when things aren't going according to plan, someone to make food for, and someone to discuss the finer points of ninja shrimp with. I will always know that at least one other person on the planet understands the decidedly peculiar way my brain works and, even more surprisingly, won't run away screaming in terror or call the men in white coats.
This time last year, I signed on for a lifetime of this, and I don't regret it one single bit.
(Warning: Those averse to mloo-mlee-mlooting might wish to look away now).
This has been the best year of my life so far, and I'm looking forward, God willing, to a lot more like it. Yes, marriage means adjustments. Yes, it means I have to change my ideas of what constitutes an acceptable level of tidy in our office, and, generally, put up with all that stuff that comes with LIVING WITH A BOY. But I will always have someone to whinge at when things aren't going according to plan, someone to make food for, and someone to discuss the finer points of ninja shrimp with. I will always know that at least one other person on the planet understands the decidedly peculiar way my brain works and, even more surprisingly, won't run away screaming in terror or call the men in white coats.
This time last year, I signed on for a lifetime of this, and I don't regret it one single bit.
Monday, 12 September 2011
Ze News
So. There hasn't been much news round here lately. Time for a general update, I think...
Things have been fairly busy recently, what with one thing and another. The kind of Things that call for a List... So, what have we been up to recently?
I'm getting tired just looking at that list... I would add "list-making" to my List Of Things That Are A Bad Idea When Heavily Pregnant (or LOTTABIWHP, if you prefer), but that might defeat the object.
Things have been fairly busy recently, what with one thing and another. The kind of Things that call for a List... So, what have we been up to recently?
- Ze Husband's cucumber plants got all excitable, and then the cornichons joined in. We made our first ever jar of pickles last week, which was exciting (more on that if they turn out to be nice when we open the jar).
- We were back in the UK briefly trying to escape from the heat and move some of our stuff, including a hatstand, back to France. It is a Very Long Way from where we live to Woods HQ.
- During this time, I also acquired a new penguin. It's big. It goes by the name of The Beast. We managed to fit it in the car with all our stuff, but only just.
- I got a few new translation clients. Exciting! (no, no, that wasn't sarcasm).
- My current inability to eat raw eggs resulted in a New And Exciting lemon mousse recipe (which I will also share at some point).
- I finished a quilting project which has been on the go for just over ten years and cleared out my old wardrobe. Result? Lots of new projects... which may go a bit quicker, seeing as
- We're getting a sewing machine. Woohoooo!
- I started a couple of new craft projects, one of which is Top Secret until our wedding anniversary. I shall try and post something about the other one once I find the camera charger (still AWOL). This may be sooner rather than later, because
- We're packing everything up into boxes again, because
- We bought a HOUSE. Yes, a real one! This is going to be a very exciting new adventure, especially with all the projects we have planned... for now, though, we're just concentrating on moving in and getting settled before the Squidlet arrives in late October/early November.
I'm getting tired just looking at that list... I would add "list-making" to my List Of Things That Are A Bad Idea When Heavily Pregnant (or LOTTABIWHP, if you prefer), but that might defeat the object.
Saturday, 13 August 2011
A la recherche de choses perdues
Helloes!
I have lots and lots of things I want to post on here at the moment - various recipes and projects and oh, loads of stuff.
The problem? All of these posts would be far better with pictures, and we've lost the charger for the camera battery.
Usually, I'm quite good at finding stuff. Ze Husband misplaces things fairly regularly- I think his keys/cheque book/paperwork/phone etc. are ganging up on him. Seriously. He'll spend ages looking for something, it will hide from him, then as soon as I start looking it jumps up and down going "I'm here! I'm here! Pick me!". (Well, not literally, although that might be useful...)
In this particular case, however, the camera charger is hiding from me, too... I suspect it may have gone on holiday, like the rest of the French population does for the whole of August.
Monday, 8 August 2011
Vampires
Today, I went for blood tests.
This is not something particularly unusual at the moment - having failed to contract toxoplasmosis at any point in my life (clearly I didn't eat enough raw meat...or something) I have to be checked every month. In France, they don't take samples at the doctor's and you have to go to the lab, but so far, nothing too complicated.
This morning, in addition to my usual tests, I had to get a blood group card made. My UK one isn't considered valid, clearly. Enter French medical bureaucracy...
For a blood group card request to be valid, two samples have to be taken, from two different points, by two different nurses, on the same day. Clearly, if just one nurse stuck needles in my arm, I might be able to bribe her to say I had a different blood type, since, you know, there are vast advantages to be had from being rhesus positive. Or something. Add to that the fact that all the veins in my left arm have gone into hiding (I think they're sick of the needles), and all in all, I had a rather fun morning.
If only getting hold of a Carte Vitale was so simple.
This is not something particularly unusual at the moment - having failed to contract toxoplasmosis at any point in my life (clearly I didn't eat enough raw meat...or something) I have to be checked every month. In France, they don't take samples at the doctor's and you have to go to the lab, but so far, nothing too complicated.
This morning, in addition to my usual tests, I had to get a blood group card made. My UK one isn't considered valid, clearly. Enter French medical bureaucracy...
For a blood group card request to be valid, two samples have to be taken, from two different points, by two different nurses, on the same day. Clearly, if just one nurse stuck needles in my arm, I might be able to bribe her to say I had a different blood type, since, you know, there are vast advantages to be had from being rhesus positive. Or something. Add to that the fact that all the veins in my left arm have gone into hiding (I think they're sick of the needles), and all in all, I had a rather fun morning.
If only getting hold of a Carte Vitale was so simple.
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