Blessing counting

There is one blessing I am counting right now, through my waves of misery & torpor. My younger cousin S gave birth safely to baby Matilda on Sunday, the first infant of our generation. When I was attic rummaging at home, I dug out the wonderful flowery cotton sundresses with smocked fronts that our shared grandmother made for me when I was a baby, and who S never met. I had been saving them for my, hmm, mythical baby, but I'd much rather Matilda wore them. After all, I can always reclaim them if and when.

And, frankly, Little Sister & I are extremely grateful to S for taking off the pressure with Muv who has been known to warble about the lack of grandchildren. She is itching to get stuck in with Matilda.

Although Muv hasn't quite lost hope: I don't think it any mistake that the two English newspapers that she left behind last week both contained huge flagship features on How To Meet A Man. I wouldn't have minded quite so much if the articles weren't about dating when over FORTY. A birthday I assure you, gentle reader, that is quite some way off.