New furniture

We have had two old couches in our living room since we moved in. They were red in the 1960's but now are just a tired, unmatchable orange-pink. The covers on the arms were ripped and they were extremely low to sit in. They belonged to the house and featured in our contract so it was up to the college to dispose of them. But they seemed content to let them stay. At any rate, it can take the college weeks to fix an urgent problem and years to fix non-urgent problems so I felt there was little hope in asking them. Once our washing machine broke with a wet cycle mid-way through and it took two weeks for someone to biff around and check it out.

Then last week our neighbour shared with me their couch dilemmas (similar to ours) and told me that St John's were going to give them new couches in a few days. Now, I know how the college operates. They like to do things in batches. Take the washing machine example. They would prefer to wait till everyone's machine broke in the middle of a wet cycle and then come round to fix the lot. So, spying my chance, I emailed the college and asked for new couches too.

Two nights later, I got a reply. It ran like this, 'your neighbour does not want their new couches. They are green and faux leather. Would you like them?'

I sat back and regarded the two orange numbers presently residing in the living room - was this a situation of 'better the evil one knows'? Then it occurred to me - perhaps I could run over and ask my neighbours what caused them to reject the couches. So I popped over and knocked at the door. They were surprised when they heard my explanation and said that they hadn't seen any couch and they still wanted the new ones.

Treasuring this knowledge in my heart, I secretly wondered why I had been offered the couches then. But with the joy of a tenant I was able to shrug my shoulders and say, 'It's Johns' problem.'

We took the plunge and asked for them.

The next day they arrived - very much green and faux but not that unsightly. They are, sadly, hard as rock but nonetheless an aesthetic improvement. Our other neighbours got their couches too, so who knows who the mystery neighbours with the mystery reject couches are. Here are the pictures:

Easter Chicks

Today, the Saturday before Easter, Edward and I took Maria to see the Home Farm at Wimpole Hall. I entitled this post Easter Chicks, which is slightly misleading, because the cows easily dominated the experience. Maria also got to feed a goat, see chicks, ducklings, piglets, lambs, horses and ponies. The constant refrain as we went around the animals was 'Maa-maa!!!' That's what a sheep says, for those of you who don't know. She was ecstatic throughout. The rain was rather persistent, as you'll note from the pictures but this suppressed the crowds and as we managed to get a table inside the farm cafe for lunch, no one minded much.

Maria's reaction to the farm was so clearly demonstrated, and she was so enthralled by all she saw that Ed and I commented on the way home that it was amazing to remember she is only 17 months old. This reminds me of another story. The other day, Maria was entertaining herself in the living room while I did some laundry. I turned around to see Maria carry her little stool into the kitchen, place it against the cabinet, climb the stool and fetch her colouring pens from the desk organiser. The operation was performed with such fluidity and intentionality that I stood back aghast. Who was this urbane, sophisticated, cunning child? And then I recognised her. The urbane child took off the lid of the yellow pen and proceeded to eat the tip. "Maria!" I cried, "Not in the mouth!"

Visitors from America

Last week my (Beth's) Mom and Dad came to visit. We had a lovely time - such visits are always much anticipated. Not only do we love the company, the extra attention and love for Maria, but also the abundance of nice fruit, red meat, mars bars and custard tarts that magically appear when Grandma and (especially) Grandpa are around. And diet Pepsi, that's a Grandma treat.

Under Grandma's tutelage, Maria has started talking! She is particularly advanced in the animal noise department, now making sounds for sheep, ducks, birds, cats, dogs and cows. Frustratingly, I tried to show her off to some friends on Saturday and she resolutely refused to bleat. But she can.

We have had lovely weather and enjoy throwing rocks into the waterways around John's. The pictures show how bright and fresh the flowers are around Cambridge. This is such a glorious place to live in the spring. And yet, we also wish we lived closer to both our families.

More winter

Greetings Everyone!!!


It is beautifully snowy outside and despite London's inability to recognise that snow has a positive side, we are enjoying it in Cambridge. My updates are fewer and fewer between because of what you might call our new crisis point. Namely, Maria is needing less daytime sleep. This is a problem because my daily hour and a half of napping baby was easily my most efficient period. It was also the only time I had to sit at the computer without a little paw reaching up and swatting the keypad. She is sleeping now, thankfully. But apart from the sleep crisis, Maria is coming into an age I really enjoy. She is endlessly bringing us books to read and she loves to point out doggies. My Grandma Cleo sent a picture of the family at last year's 4th of July celebration (we weren't there) and Maria was overjoyed to see....my parents' small dog Chiffon. I think she recognised the family members too, but it was clearly Chiffon who sparked the most joy. For those of us who have privately resented the high place Chiffon holds in my Dad's affections, this may come as a nasty blow. But oh well, I can't really blame Maria: Chiffon is very cute.

Before it started snowing, it rained. I read, and also agreed with, a book advocating parents take their children out to experience all kinds of weather. It was pouring rain and I thought it seemed like an adventure. So on came our wellies and macintosh (in my case, Gortex. After all, I'm from the Pacific Northwest). Maria partly saw the fun, I hope, in our excursion. She didn't smile hugely for the camera.

And last, snow. Maria doesn't know what to make of the snow. It's very difficult to walk in, so she mostly stands around and eventually asks to be picked up. Her snowsuit makes her look like red marshmallow but the item is a real gem, let me tell you.

Breakthrough!!!

We have two ongoing battles with Maria.

The first regards food: does it belong on the floor, or in her mouth?

The second regards any non-food item: does it belong in her mouth, or on the floor?

We have made little headway in the second battle, but in the first we have made a break-through. For many months, we tried a gentle wrist tap to dissuade her from dropping her food on the floor. The first time Edward tried it, she looked puzzled, then grinned and pointed at him as if to say, 'ha ha Daddy. That was a great joke!' The gentle wrist tap was clearly not the answer. But a few weeks ago I was feeling poorly, consumed with self-pity and unenthused about waging this particular war. So when Maria gleefully dumped five tomato chunks onto the floor, I heartlessly removed her from her chair and told her she could clean up for once. That's when it happend - the breakthrough! She looked about, picked up the hand-held broom and began to sweep at the tomato chunks. True, she was holding the broom upside down, so that the bristles pointed in the air and she swept with a hard plastic handle, but it was the gesture that counted. And it was noble. What a baby. Now our strategy is thus: Maria drops her food and we say (calmly, confidently and in control) 'Miss Eleanor Bumblebee if you drop your food, you will have to clean it up.'

I think we must look quite obviously first time parents.

January Blues

Christmas has come and gone, taking with it much of life's dazzle. January often feels quite flat to me, even though I am always relieved when the Christmas goodies are finally out of sight. It's too soon for spring but I'm desperate to see a few primroses or daffodils. We undecorated, much to Maria's disappointment. She loved the Christmas tree and every time she saw it she would point and cry, 'Agh!' She loved every Christmas tree she saw and for the month of December her life's ambition became trying to touch Christmas trees. Here are a few pictures to document the obsession:

Maria and the front room tree, with Granny

Maria goes for the baby tree.

The other miserable truth about January is that it's the 'back to work' month. Edward and I have been looking bleakly at each other with the word 'unmotivated' hanging palpably between us. Although, Ed has been rallying...

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas everyone! The McNeilly's have decorated in baby-proof fashion. I bought a Country Living magazine the other day, featuring a large section on how to cope with holiday stress. I hope no one reading this blog is suffering from holiday stress. The McNeilly's aren't. We are suffering from holiday flu bugs. On Saturday night Maria and I threw up almost simulateously. I did it at Vicky Hasleham's lovely 30th birthday party and Maria did it all over her cot. The 24 hours that followed were not Christmasy. Fortunately, Ed's mom was visiting. You may remember that we had a previous health crisis in October when Ann was visiting. By today (Monday) Maria and I are feeling a bit more like our jovial selves. But Ed threw up this afternoon and has not been out of bed since. Poor Ann has realized that if she wants to escape with her health, she needs to make a speedy get-away!