midwife's muse

We have drive off

Yes, the cover note arrived yesterday so I am now all legal. Due to prior commitments, going to local village county show, I didn't get to drive her yesterday, but I have given her a quick run around today, I'm sure that when I have got used to braking, and her standing on her nose, we will get on fine. There are too many distractions though, a display tells me mpg, range, momentary consumption etc. and I can't resist the temptation to watch it. There is also ESP, what is that? The manual tells me it's Electronic stability program, right, mmm, it then tells me that I have ABS, EBC, EDL and TCS but that they 'cannot overcome the physical limits of the vehicle....and the increased safety offered by EPS must not induce you to take risks with your safety'. I don't think that will be a problem as I have no idea what it does. The one dangerous feature is a rev counter. The last time I drove a car with one of these dials I had just passed my test, and had only ever driven a 1964 mini. We had gone out with friends to a club in London and I was driving someones new Granada Estate, slightly bigger and more powerful than my 800cc mini. 3 am and I'm negotiating the back streets of the capital, 'There is a speed limit' says Hubby, 'I know, I'm only doing 30' I responded tetchily, ' You are doing 80' everyone shouted, whoops, I had been watching the rev counter!

The county show was a big hit with Jack, there was a fie-engine (nee-naw) there, and a lively fireman let Jack sit in it and put the siren on. After that we came back to my house and his Mummy lay him on the sofa to have a nap whilst she went to visit his Daddy in hospital. Other daughter had put Amy down in the cot upstairs and was told not to go into the sitting-room. Amy didn't settle so she came back downstairs and we stayed in the family room. After a while daughter decided to check Jack was OK, no sign of him in sitting-room. Nanny raced upstairs, calling him, all the bedroom doors closed, opened the 'babies' door, pitch black as blinds and curtains closed, and heard a little voice go 'Nanny, Jack, lost'. Poor little boy was huddled in the corner behind the cot, doing that horrible shuddering, gulping sound that lets you know they have been sobbing for ages. We snuggled on the sofa together whilst Jack recounted his experience ' Jack, room, Amy. No. Dark. Lost. Nanny, nanny, nanny'. Enormous guilt, the mournful way he kept repeating his saga, shaking his head sadly as he said nanny, nanny, nanny, such pathos from one so young.

3.9.06 16:37