WE HAVE HEAT!

I came back from the children's school nativity plays today to find the house warm and hot water available:   it was lovely, and such a relief not to have to go through the process of a new boiler and a long-winded (no doubt) insurance claim.

Holker Hall yesterday, which I visited with ex-work Friend L., was resplendent with christmas decorations, and although at this time of year the visitor sees around fewer rooms than at other times, the effort and splendour of the decorations was worth it.  We both liked the dining room the best: there was a table about the size of our dining room, set for 12 with an enormous table piece in the centre, and a side table of Tudor 'comfits'.  Imagine being a servant for Henry VIII or whomever and having to go to that effort!  There was also a tree which we reckoned was about 12' high in the entrance hall, and the other decorations I particularly liked were the ones going up the stairs with white fairy lights in.

The shop, food hall and cafe were also good - albeit the first two were far too tempting - and I would definitely like to go back again, and take the children: one of the Mums from school was saying that there's a good garden show or something on in the summer, where you can sit on straw bales eating strawberries while the children run around.  Knowing Cumbrian weather, I hope this happens in May or June, which are usually warm and sunny, rather than July or August when invariably it rains.

The baby was doing the most mammoth movements last night and again this morning.  Yesterday I felt as if I was oozing out at the sides a bit: today he seems a bit lower, and a couple of people have commented that he seems to be as well.  After the children's plays and the warm house I had a midwife's appointment: it was Liz, who I think is possibly my favourite, though they're all lovely.  Liz seems really dynamic and has taken extra effort a  few times on my part; trying to get a Doctor to phone me up to talk to me in more detail about concerns I had (eg. high risk of Downs and whether it was worth having a nuchal scan; low amniotic fluid) and also trying to find out whether I could get the nuchal scan free because of my age!  She's great and I'm pleased that she'll be working at the hospital the day after the baby is born.  She said he was still head down but - as I rather suspected - he has got his bottom stuck out one side and his legs the other, so he's lying almost transverse at the moment rather than curled up ready to pop out (I don't feel as if he's about to pop out either, whereas I remember feeling like a torpedo with Daughter).  Liz also guessed that he'd be 7lb 6oz: we'll see!

At least I think I possibly look less like Mr. Greedy now, which was what (whom?) Husband likened me to a couple of weeks ago.

I talk about the day after the baby's born: this is assuming of course that he doesn't decide to come along early.  As I'm now at 37 weeks, it wouldn't matter in terms of his health if he came along early (he would no longer count as premature) but I'm hoping he doesn't do so while we're in Aberdeen this weekend.  I guess I'd probably better take my notes with me just in case.

An hour or so ago I was sent some photos of Daughter singing at the concert on Saturday: I felt all emotionally maternal and proud again.  She and Son were both great in their school plays, but at the moment I think she comes across better singing rather than speaking: though she was having a lot of trouble with the star costume today, and also she was reading her lines rather than speaking them from memory.  Son knew his but was fighting with a friend for the microphone: and in fact I think that by his age they should be encouraged to speak clearly without a microphone anyway.

I've just received an email from the choir master to the entire choir saying that he thinks we're the third best choir in the district now after Wordsworth Singers and Abbey Singers.  That is some accolade: and what is even more flattering for me is that he says that I'm missed, and is keen for me to come back as soon as possible.  We're doing the Durufle Requiem next term which I don't know but everyone says is lovely: in fact I think I shall go and see whether any of is it posted on YouTube.

Last singing lesson of term and before the birth tomorrow: I won't have another until mid-February at the earliest.  Husband is going to have my slot and learn the flute.  I am going to miss my lessons!  I shall go into Carlisle tomorrow morning and get some flowers from M&S for my teacher, plus finish my Christmas card and parcel posting, and so forth.

I'm looking forward to Christmas: I'm enjoying Advent.  Can the children really get any more exhaustingly excited?!

DAUGHER'S DEBUT...

My children never cease to surprise me and make me feel proud, even when they do things which I know them well enough to know they'll be fine at.

Husband's dinner last night was lovely: Smoked Venison Wellington served with Potato and Celeriac Rosti, various vegetables and gravy and then a chocolate brownie cheesecake thing out of the Hummingbird Cafe cookery book for dessert.

There was a gap between the two courses while I went to my choir's concert.  It was strange not singing: I kept wanting to sing along and in particular seeing the girl I normally do duets with doing a duet with one of the altos made me wish I had been standing up there in front instead!

However Daughter came with me, dressed up for the occasion in her party dress.  She was just beginning to get a bit too restless for my liking when there was an 'audience participation' carol: Away in a Manger, which she was very excited about.  The choirmaster asked all the children in the audience - all two of them - to go up to the front, and off Daughter went without a moment's hesitation, looking terribly small but confident in her purple dress.  "Like mother, like daughter" he said, and stood her on a pew and turned her round to face the audience.  Whilst the choir ladies sang the first verse very softly, my Daughter had centre stage.  Without any control tears flowed down my cheeks: she looked so small but sang beautifully and in tune, her face hidden behind the programme from which she was reading the words, and got a round of applause at the end.

I shouldn't have been surprised: after all I taught her Ding Dong Merrily on High when she was only 2 years' old (I had run out of ideas for nursery rhymes), and I know she loves music of all sorts, and singing, and is a confident, extrovert little individual.  But somehow this was her choosing to go out into the world and perform, albeit in a small way, and it was one of her ways of showing her independence and her character: she did it in an unselfconscious way, purely because she wanted to, as one would expect from a 5-year-old.

Two more verses followed, with everyone singing, and then a small voice said to the choirmaster "can I go back now?": and Special Friend M., who had also come to the concert, then took Daughter home.

I got so many complimentary comments immediately after the concert and again today, and felt so proud of her.  But she now wants a cuddle as 'shadows keep her awake' so I need to turn off my study light and go downstairs - or to bed to read as it's almost 9p.m. which is about the optimum time for me nowadays!

PRESS COVERAGE AND NO BOILER

My singing exam seemed to go well: the examiner said he liked my voice, enjoyed listening to it and that I sang with plenty of expression.  Then during the aural - my weakest bit - he asked whether I sang in a choir, to which I replied 'Solway Singers and Lanercost Festival Chorus and I sometimes get some solos' to which he said 'good'.  I also told him that I was thinking of trying to get more solo work, which again he supported.  During the aural - which I don't think was too bad, although I know it wasn't anything like perfect either - I did at least think correctly that the piece which you have to comment on certain aspects of, was Debussy: it was a lovely piece and in fact I'd like to find out what it was.  I think Debussy is possibly one of my favourite composers after Mozart, and I keep thinking I'd like to sing some French chanson at some point.

I drove home on a high, to find the house gloriously empty: Husband had taken Son to Drama and left Daughter down the road at a friend's.

They all got back and I suggested going out for a chinese takeaway: Daughter came with me and we were incredibly lazy, because it was still so cold, and went by car.  As we returned to our house there was a big white van parked opposite: a heating engineer, hooray!  I was so absorbed in looking at the van and hoping that he was coming to repair our boiler that I reversed into Husband's car........ fortunately I only broke a corner of his number plate and made a tiny scrap in the paintwork of my (new) bumper.

The plumber told us the boiler had completely packed up due to the condensate freezing inside it, and that in any case it was undersized for our house, and suggested we may be able to make it an insurance claim.  Not being totally convinced, and worried that the insurance wouldn't cover it anyway, we set an insurance claim in motion but have also contacted the boiler manufacturers, Vaillant, who are sending out one of their engineers on Tuesday.  I also checked the size and it is undersized: typical of the people who owned the house before us who seemed to do everything on the cheap.  It appears to be the right size for a 1 or 2 bed house or flat with one bathroom.  Having said that, as Husband said, it still heats the water up and the house gets warm when the heating's on.

We currently are 'cooking the baths', i.e. heating up pans of water on the gas hob and have a medley of electric heaters warming the house.  The temperature has indeed risen to a balmy +8 degrees, so it's not as bad as it might be, though apparently we're due more minus temperatures and possibly snow next week.  It's quite strange seeing green again after everything looking so pristine and white.

The Cumberland News did what they said and printed a story about me yesterday, which nearly everyone I know seems to have seen.  I've seen the News and Star website version, which I have to say I think is a very poor piece of journalism.  It's factually inaccurate (refers to issues with the amniotic fluid meaning the baby is small and leading to an early caesarean: all complete rubbish as the issues were over last time I had my hospital appointment, as anyone who has been keeping up with this blog will know, and the caesarean is because I haven't given birth 'naturally' previously: also the baby will be 39 weeks and a few days, i.e. full-term).  Otherwise it basically re-hashes the Carlisle Living article, which was far better: and re-uses some of those photos.  I've emailed the journalist who has written me up for Woman just so she's forewarned, but I don't feel too worried: after all who ever gets the first picture of the baby and the interview with me after the birth will be 'in the lead' - and it sure as anything won't be Cumberland News or anyone else from CN Group.

I'm a little regretful though that Radio Cumbria phoned me and wanted to speak to me, and I'm going to have to say 'no' I think: it's a pity as I've really enjoyed being on Radio Cumbria and they've been following me all along.  I'm going to offer them the first story locally after Woman has published though and I'm out of the exclusivity period.

Husband is busy cooking an upmarket dinner and I'm printing off letters inviting singers to join the Lanercost Festival Chorus as I write, and I need to go to lay the table: so I shall finish here.  Next week promises to be exciting with a visit to Holker Hall with ex-work-friend L and the children's nativity plays - oh, and also a new or repaired boiler and hence hot water and heating.  I'll keep you posted!

D.I.Y.

Last night the boiler stopped working.  We have no heating and no hot water.  I also had an extremely interrupted night's sleep: Son came in at 1.30, Husband at 4.00 and Daughter at nearly 5:00.  As a result I was tired and grumpy and didn't want to get out of bed this morning.

The forecast is for warmer (dare I even say 'warm'?) weather over the next couple of days and as the problem with the boiler purely seems to be that possibly the condensation outlet pipe may have frozen, we're hoping that positive temperatures may help.  Meanwhile I've poured two kettles of boiling water on the outside of it and put the 'purple sausage' (one of those bag things which contain oats and lavender, and which you heat up in the microwave) on the inside of the pipe, in the hope that the problem is cured that way.  Certainly between us Husband and I have spoken to 3 or 4 people with condensing boilers who have taken a similar approach and it has resolved the matter: it would be handy not to have to call out a repair man, though having said that our timer has been broken since last winter and it might be useful to have that repaired as well....

It was -4 taking the children to school but I sense that the temperature is rising: or perhaps it's just that I still have lots of clothes on because of the lack of heating.

Both children have lost their chocolate advent calendars as of today.  I can't remember exactly why now: Husband confiscated them for some reason.  I had already eaten Son's no. 9 chocolate for going in my study and getting things out of my 'white box' (namely scissors, glue, sellotape and a biro) yet again, despite having been told a zillion times not to without asking first.  I don't want to stem his creativity but nor do I want papers disturbed.  He made a card for one of his teachers this morning which needed none of the above items.  I'm not quite sure what he drew, and it also got folded in a rather weird way as I didn't have any envelopes the right size, but I'm sure it will be appreciated.

I'm off to make mince pies in a moment and take the portable electric heater downstairs to see if it will warm the boiler up enough to get it going again.  Two of the ferrets - and their poo (lovely) are still in the utility room so I hope they won't burn themselves.  Harry is not looking at all healthy but Maddie came out to see me, tried to climb in the laundry basket and wee'd on the kitchen floor.  She's such a sweet little ferret you have to forgive her but I did prevent her burying herself in dirty laundry as I didn't want to risk ferret wee and poo in there, even if it is all going to get piled in the washing machine before long.

So: mince pies here I come - then off for my singing exam.  I'm somewhat nervous, although I also think I'm as ready as I'll ever be.  I just wish it wasn't all from memory!

CHILL FACTOR MINUS 14

I was going to put a photo of the snow in this post, but the one I took really wasn't that exciting: and whereas last year I was out and about in the snow a lot, this year so far I've only really been out in it in the car. It's a pity: I'd love to go for a walk but I just don't feel it would be particularly wise on my own as it's so icy.

Driving to school in the morning there is often a lovely pinkish glow to the snow from the morning sun.  Hedgerows really do glitter in the way that Christmas cards sometimes depict snow-covered trees, and I just want to stop the car and get out with my camera.  In the afternoon the colour changes to a golden, warmer hue.  It all looks so beautiful but is beginning to annoy many people who would just like a little respite from it (ideally for it to come back in time for Christmas).

The temperatures have been anything between about -7 and -14 during the mornings and evenings.  We've even had ice indoors: Son's windows had ice on this morning; the utility room the other morning; and each morning I not only have to de-ice the outside of the car but also wait for the thin layer of ice on the inside to disappear, before I can see safely enough to drive.  The weather forecast predicted temperatures of +4 or 5 degrees tomorrow initially: I didn't believe it for a moment and I see that they have now changed their prediction to just below freezing to 0 tomorrow and then +2 - +4 degrees on Friday: along with fog and generally rather horrid, dull sounding-weather.  I gave up on the weather forecast some months ago as it was so often wrong: I think it's better to look around you and just go by nature's signs as much as one can with limited knowledge, and by gut instinct. 

It probably doesn't help that here we don't quite get Northumberland's weather, we don't quite get the Solway Plain's weather, and we don't necessarily get the northern Pennines' weather: it can be any one of them.  The forecast for Carlisle can be wrong for Brampton: the forecast for south west Scotland is often more accurate for northern Cumbria than the forecast for north west England.  I have never really felt part of north west England anyway: this neck of the woods feels more akin to Scotland and Northumberland, and the accent and history bear that out.

The snow has given me an excuse, being now 8 months pregnant, to be quite house-bound and very lazy.  I did get a spurt of energy today and do stacks of housework: less 'nesting' than just hating dirt and mess I think.  I also took the opportunity to have a lovely long soak in the bath while I read a very interesting book about medieval history and watched my stomach making weird lop-sided shapes.  I even weighed myself: I'm not sure whether it's good, bad or irrelevant that I have now stuck on 12 stone for several weeks.  Either the baby isn't growing enough again (I'm not surprised, the amount of activity going on: he must be burning up calories at quite a rate) or he's using up my fat stores somehow.  Considering that I ate more than enough for 2, if not for 3, in the first two trimesters, I'm hoping it's the latter.  I have a feeling that he's not going to be as heavy as either of the others though: I keep thinking that he's somehow restricted in there, like a pot plant without enough root space: he can't grow as there's nowhere to expand into.  He is quite low down, as if my diaphragm, with all my singing and general breathing 'stuff' from exercise, won't let him go up any higher (my mother has told countless times the story of how my sister was up under one side of her ribs and she had to sit down sideways as it was so painful: I certainly don't have that problem).

Speaking of singing and breathing, tomorrow is my singing exam and I've just done some practice.  I only got about one word wrong in each of the songs which is more difficult to remember, so fingers crossed for tomorrow: I'm hoping that a last-minute run-through with my teacher will be like last-minute swotting for exams, which in my experience often pays off (I shall never forget the day of one of my Latin 'A' level papers.  I read the full-length words for an abbreviation, remembered them, and found the words and their meaning were one of the first questions on the exam paper: it was hugely confidence-boosting).  I also did some sight-singing, which as usual was mixed but on the whole not bad: enough to make me feel that I could do OK.

I was meant to be going in to school to sing and give a bit of a music lesson to years 0, 1 and 2 but it just hasn't happened: the school was closed on the day we'd arranged and then it hasn't been possible to reschedule.  However I gave them my lesson plan and a CD of Mozart arias in case they wanted to use it themselves, and it was satisfying this morning when one of the teachers said it looked really good and please could I go in to see just her class at least?  I think realistically it's going to be next term sometime now before it can be arranged though.  I still haven't seen the Education Outreach Worker jobs at Carlisle Leisure advertised, and being able to say I've gone into school and sung and talked to them about music I would have thought would be a plus point in my favour.  Hopefully the jobs won't get funding until next Financial Year and then won't start until I'm ready to start work again!

Domesticity combined with supporting the school last night when I made chocolate fairy cakes for the christmas fair, which was postponed from last week to this week.  Just as well as last week's cakes were a disaster: it was a really runny recipe so I added more flour, and the taste was bland to say the least.  This time Daughter - my key helper - and I used the basic '6, 6, 6 and 3 eggs' recipe and it turned out fine.  I later put white peppermint-flavoured (Daughter's idea as we'd run out of vanilla) frosting on top with edible glitter sprinkled on that: they looked lovely and, as I'd hoped, like snow-covered ground.  There wasn't enough glitter for two of the cakes so I saved them: I ate one and then later allowed Son to have the last one as Daughter bit him on his back, twice, when they were fighting over a piece of red glittery wrapping paper.  They did at least make up: she was sent to her bedroom where she spent some time and effort making him a 'sorry' card and he - magnaminously I thought as she'd hurt him quite badly, and torn the skin - then made her a 'forgiveness' card in return, and all was love and cuddles again.  And there will soon be a third one to add to the equation...... sigh!

How they will react is a matter of some speculation to Husband and me.  Our instinct is that Son will be interested and caring whereas with Daughter it will depend whether she still gets enough attention.  I was watching them with interest with the smallest ferret this afternoon: Daughter, when left to get on with it on her own, stayed still and quiet and started reading to the ferret, but as soon as Son came back and tried to get the ferret to play with his toy cat, everything started getting a bit bickery and noisy (the ferret went and hid behind the fridge-freezer: I can't say I blame her).  So whilst individually they may be great with the Little Guy, together they are potentially going to be vying for his attention!  I think they may surprise us though.  They are both such loving children that I think they will love having a far younger brother, and maybe sometimes it will help the dynamics rather than being a problem.

It's getting towards my bedtime (10pm at the latest) and I need to sort out how to copy or scan a map to the scale I want it at, and I'd like to read some more of my medieval history book.  I can sense that my eyes are beginning to want to close already though: so often I only read about a page of a book before I feel myself falling asleep over it.   Wish me luck for my exam tomorrow!

THE PRESS!

Radio Cumbria interviewed me again the other day: it aired yesterday morning and I caught it as I was de-icing the car to take the children to school.

My contract with Woman magazine says nothing about not talking to local radio: nor indeed to radio at all, nor to local newspapers.  However the Cumberland News picked the story up and were straight on the phone to me, saying they're going to publish something on Friday anyway whether or not I talk to them: they wanted to after I'd spoken to Carlisle Living and, on the advice of the journalist who's written me up for Woman, I said 'no': she's worried that once it's in the newspapers, even a small local newspaper like the Cumberland News, that the story will be got hold of by the national papers or a press agency and that I won't see any money at all from the story.

It's actually made me wonder about a few things, helped by having a very good friend who's a broadcaster and who has done journalism as well (I can't now remember how I've referred to her earlier in my blog!).  For a start, the journalist who's writing up my story for Woman is doubtless getting a huge amount more from this story than I am.  I don't particularly have a problem with that as she's had to do the writing, she had the contacts (which I didn't) and it's her livelihood: she has also sounded really friendly all the times I've spoken to her and I don't believe in mucking people around anyway: a deal is a deal.  But I do wonder whether some of her concern is that she won't make her money from the story if Woman say I'm in breach of contract (I'm certain I'm not: sure enough that I'd go to Court over it if necessary.  I think there'd be a story there as well: unemployed mother of 3 done out of a relatively small amount of money (in their terms) by big glossy trying to intimidate her....).

The other thing is that if the Cumberland News does publish a story on Friday, it may at least give some indication whether there is a story in which the nationals are going to be interested (Broadcaster Friend is convinced there is - so long as it's told the right way).  I don't know how much detail the Cumberland News will have to go on as I'm not sure how much digging they'll be prepared to do, and how much information Radio Cumbria or Carlisle Living will give provide them with.  And of course they won't get a photo of the baby when he's born anyway, which is really the key moment in the story.  But if there is some national interest then potentially I'm wondering whether I can then deal with that myself, directly, and negotiate myself.  In some ways I don't want the hassle, I just want the journalist to act, effectively, as an agent for me!

So it will be interesting to see what happens over the next few weeks.  It's made me think about how celebrities must feel.  I really enjoyed being on Radio Cumbria, it was fun; and doing the article for Carlisle Living was fun: but I'm now seeing the downside of press attention, albeit that this is on a very, very minor scale.  I've always thought I wanted to be famous as I like being the centre of attention: but the flip side of that is sometimes you're the centre of attention when you don't want to be.  Having said that even if I do get some press attention you can bet your bottom dollar that it will be over in a relatively short space of time and the newspapers will be wrapped around fish and chips a few days later!

What I would really like from this is some money to help keep us going as a family, and better still for some work, i.e. regular income, to come from it in some way: I'd also really like to talk to one of the broadsheets or a sensible TV or Radio programme about the issues about being an older mother and the medical research side of it.  For example, I was thinking about fertility and Downs.  Women nowadays don't really know how fertile they are because they use contraception (on the whole), although the ease with which one gets pregnant when trying is presumably an indicator.  So, if you get pregnant easily in your 40s and even your early 50s, does that mean that you're still producing lots of eggs?  And if so, presumably the number of eggs which is healthy is going to be higher - and give you a higher chance of a healthy baby - than a woman who isn't producing so many eggs.  Also, I know your eggs age, but if you're ageing more slowly than normal then are your eggs maybe ageing more slowly too (I think the answer to that is probably 'no' from what I've read, but I'm not sure it's necessarily something which has been specifically looked at)?

I'm optimistic that this will all lead to something work-wise for me: the interviews, voice overs and pieces I've done for Radio Cumbria I think must be good experience and a useful starting point.

What I want more than anything of course though is a healthy baby: Husband and I always said we were lucky that we'd got the two we'd got.  I know I've written here before that to have a third healthy child would make us lucky beyond our expectations.  If the deal was to get no money from the story but have a healthy baby, there is of course no decision to be made.

Meanwhile the snow is still here, although fortunately school hasn't been closed again.  I have a mailing to do for the Lanercost Festival Chorus including some press releases in order to try to recruit new singers: I also need to find some gold paper which I can put in my printer, to do 'save the date' cards for my 50th birthday party next year (August Bank Holiday weekend and also my 7th wedding anniversary: and hoping to have the baby christened the next day).  And there are still a couple of presents to buy but I really need to wait until I have a bit more money in my account (I think I'm down to about £20)!

Grade 7 singing exam on Thursday: I hope I remember all my words and that the aural and sight-singing go OK!

The snow makes everything feel really christmassy, and I love driving through Brampton in the dark seeing the snow and the christmas lights on the buildings.  I sometimes miss city life in terms of career opportunities but I don't think I really ever want to live anywhere else.  And it won't be long now before I'll be able to go out running on the trails again!

SNOW, SNOW AND MORE SNOW

Last week's dusting of snow was only a prelude to what started over the weekend and has continued and grown heavier: we had about 4-5" during the day today and Son was, fortunately, fetched from school by Pregnant Friend C. and her husband, who have a 4 wheel-drive.  Husband phoned not long ago to say that the roads round Carlisle - which he was insisting a couple of hours ago were fine - are now chaotic and that the snow has become heavier in the city.  I don't think I'll be going to my singing lesson this evening!

On Monday I went into Carlisle to drop off my car and pick up a hire car (which has traction control and is useless in the snow, even though in other ways it is lovely: for example heated front seats) but also had a hospital appointment.  They did another scan, just to check the amniotic fluid (c.12 cc) and the flow from the placenta to the baby: which was fine but would have been far easier for the stenographer to have measured if he stopped wriggling!

However the most exciting thing was coming away with a date for an elective caesarean, and not just any old date!  I had anticipated them wanting to get me in and out between Christmas and the New Year, so had asked for 28th December.  It turned out that they aren't working that day, but the Thursday - which was fully booked.  They are also working on New Year's Eve, though because I'd mentioned 28th the consultant said they could do 29th at a pinch.  I didn't actually want 29th so the baby is going to be born on New Year's Eve!  What a way to start the New Year, and what a birth date to have!

It also means - though this is probably as relevant and credible as horoscopes are - that he will be a Friday baby, i.e. 'loving and giving' (Husband and Son are Sunday: 'bony and blithe and good and gay') and Daughter and I are Thursday ('have far to go').

The sad thing is that brother-in-law and his wife-to-be, who are with us for Christmas, are leaving on Thursday 30th so they'll just miss seeing the new baby, unless of course they change their New Year's Eve party to February, when she moves in with him (as an aside, I am SO glad he has finally made that commitment).

I was due to go into school to sing again tomorrow but I'm not sure whether the school will be open: and then Friday is the Christmas Fair, for which we are about to make mince pies and chocolate cup cakes.  Meanwhile Son and Daughter wanted to do some painting but as I can't find their paint brushes they are having to make do with felt pen instead.  However Daughter and I did make her Star outfit for the nativity play today, which involved finger paint glitter, gold glitter, some tinsel which has gold stars in it, and some star stickers.......... now I've just got to work out how she will actually wear it!

Husband is currently struggling home through the snow, I hope with something good to eat.  I'd better go to see what the children are up to.....