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Sunday, November 02, 2008

Enough said...

If Granny is not very communicative just now, put it down to arrival of Beloved Baby and parents. Beloved Baby is now 3 months old and, naturally, delicious, inclined to smile indiscriminately, which is very gratifying for as yet not very familiar grandparent (or honorary grandparent in Granny's case.) Beloved baby, like all babies, is of course basically, a little animal, an eating, sleeping, shitting machine, her sole evolutionary function, at this age, to survive: hence the built-in capacity to charm all in sight with toothless grins and different grades of gurgle, coo, small, refined shrieks and happy grasps at offered fingers. It helps of course, in this case, that she is a very calm and contented baby: one that doesn't yell unless hungry, a reasonable enough response, and of course part of the survival process.

Tonight, Granny P (for the first time, for this child she will actually, officially be Granny P) and Grandpa, otherwise known as Beloved are to be left in FULL CHARGE while her trusting parents go out to dinner. Doubtless there will much dandling, baby talk, nursery rhymes (nice thing about babies they are the only creatures on earth who seem to enjoy the sound of Granny singing) and even, possibly, the pro-offering of a bottle of expressed breast milk, by one or both grand or (un)grandparent.

This is of course the easy bit; still to come: teething, terrible twos, school phobia (possibly) adolescence etc. Not to say there won't be some pretty - very - nice bits in between, small children being what they are - especially when smiling. Not much to be said for adolescence, though, for the surrounding adults, let alone the adolescent herself. Granny's eldest granddaughter will be starting on that one next year. Which makes her reflect her again, looking at enchanting, Beloved, Baby, how pitifully short it all is. Life she means. Of course.

Wind continues somewhat: but it has actually been quite sunny today - rain pissing down all others - though the interruptions of sun and blue from time to time leads to some spectacular rainbows - a bit of a compensation these. Little shoots of green are appearing on the upper part of Granny's land. She is fighting off a cold (family, inevitably at this time of year arrived with one) and attempting to translate a medical report into English. Official translator who mostly translates legal documents and so would therefore most likely be resorting to Google, Wikipedia, English and Spanish, and to a large dictionary no less than Granny is having to, was proposing to charge an inordinately large fee: granny of course comes free. No, don't ask why a medical report has to be translated. This is life in one form or another - which comes down at Granny's age, often, to long-term problems regarding the care of elderly, sick and/or demented relations. Luckily for her she may be elderly but she is still very fit, mentally and physically. So though she may make her little offerings to the Gods - like sitting at her MAC all afternoon translating words like the Spanish form of haemoglobin into the English form - she can't complain really. She doesn't.

On Tuesday, election day, she goes to England, arriving late at night, turning on the TV and most likely not getting much sleep. For which reason she has kept Wednesday clear, like many others, she suspects. Oh God. fingers crossed: along with just about everything else.... roll on the day.

And what WILL she does with herself thereafter - once the champagne is drunk - or the bitter ashes eaten?

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