Storytelling Sunday - The Brooch

She was surprised to find it light when mummy opened the curtains and realised with excitement that she had never been awake this early before on a summer morning, the air itself seemed to tingle with anticipation and the sense of controlled hustle and excitement was palpable.
It felt cold, which surprised her as it was the middle of June - but then she had never been awake so early before, mummy was waking and dressing her little sister -  who just looked bewildered and only half awake - - then she remembered - granny and grandad had stayed last night - so-o-o exciting!
Now dressed, she danced towards the kitchen - - Granny was there - adding bread, butter, tea, bacon, eggs, milk and all manner of other foodstuffs into a large bag whilst Grandad was checking the primus, the teapot/kettle, the matches - - adding cups, plates, spoons to another bag and that the bottle of violet coloured meths was full enough to last the whole time!

Suitcases lined the hallway, coats piled on top, along with a flower book , the map book, washbags - - the front door suddenly opened to reveal daddy - who picked up the largest suitcase, turned and went out again - - Grandad was suddenly passing her and he too picked up a suitcase and went out the door - - daddy was back again - this time collecting the bags from the kitchen - - -

A flurry of activity from the 4 adults around them - - it was time - "Come along" her daddy spoke slightly impatiently "we need to get going" as he checked all was locked and hurried them all into the car - - - 

- - for us to set off on our very first trip to Cornwall - which was where this tiny brooch came from made from some silver coloured base metal, a ring of green enamel, a small circle of what is supposed to be mother-of-pearl but is actually (I suspect anyway) plastic - topped by a tiny pisky figure - a small cheap tourist souvenir, which, whenever I come across it in my jewelry box, takes me right back to that very first Cornish holiday and the beginning of a love affair with that most magical of England's counties which remains with me to this day. I fell - - hook, line and sinker for its rugged beauty, awe inspiring seas, enchantingly quaint villages, legends, smugglers, fishermen, miners, harbours, light , art - everything about it was - to the girl I was - entirely too romantic for any words my 11 year old self could have found. I don't actually remember which of Cornwall's delightful villages this little brooch came from but was my introduction to Piskies - I am not sure which of those 4 adults I spent my childhood holidays with actually bought it for me but it is incredibly precious in my eyes, for whenever I see it - every one of the wonderful holidays - not only in Cornwall but in other parts of the UK too -  with my mum, dad, sister and grandparents come flooding back.

It also represents my love of Cornwall's rugged beauty and charm that captured my heart all those years ago. Cornwall holds it still - for me it will always be a magical county. I have spent very, very many happy holidays there since that first visit, have adored every book I ever read that was set there, from Mallory Towers on that first car journey, through Jamaica Inn, Frenchman's Creek,the Poldarks and The House on the Strand and -- I wore it in my coats for many years and we had many more of those very early starts! Coming across it again has triggered many more memories - which I really aught to record - - - - - -

Many thanks to Sian of High in the Sky - who hosts this meme, and this year suggested that we Pick our Precious - without whom THIS story may never have been written down -  - and although I have failed totally with this month's challenge to write down a "short" story! (Well you know me and words!)- -  there will be many more stories about on the web today. Just click here to follow the links - maybe you too have a story to share?

Thanks for dropping in,
'til later

Bannghtyn, J x

Storytelling Sunday - - A Scrap of Paper

Welcome, welcome - so lovely to have you drop in. Today is another Sunday full of stories - - today it's Storytelling Sunday with Sian at High in the Sky - do you have stories to share? Just hop over and link up if you do, Sian will make you very welcome and explain everything - just click here for full details.

It had been a hard and busy day in the office , and the young woman was tired, the bus was crowded and she could so easily fall asleep surrounded by the warmth of humanity. She shook herself slightly - D------ was away so she had to get off to collect the children from R----. She hoped her youngest had been OK there today. Her small blonde tomboy didn't really like going to R---- as a shy, quiet little scrap she much preferred the gentleness of Granny's - where she could tuck herself behind the sofa and whisper to herself and play quietly.
School holidays were hardest as the children had to go to R---- for full days when granny wasn't available. The young woman sighed as she got to her feet to press the bell to alight to collect her family - it worried her that her little one hadn't settled at R----, but she supected it was a bit too over whelming for her youngest now they were in bigger premises - - -
As the bus stopped she got off and hurried up the lane to the Old Nursery - - the doors were open and the staff welcomed her as went in. " We've been painting today" said R--- " R------- really enjoyed herself, didn't you?" she said to the small girl appearing at her side, who had dashed out of the playrooms as soon as she saw mummy on the path.  "That's good to hear" was the younger woman's answer, "Come and see mummy, see what we did" - - her young daughter pulled her along the corridor to the big art room - - all around were huge posters full of foot prints, all shapes, all sizes, all colours! "Here is me mummy". The small girl spoke excitedly - - "R--- says we can take them home now they are dry"- -
- - which is how I came by todays' "precious"  - - a rather tatty scrap of paper in most people's opinion I guess - the white paint flaked away in parts, the background faded from its original bright blue but a reminder of not only how slender her small feet were, but of how she only ever tolerated going along to R---- and that day was one that stands out as a rare occasion when she truly could have said she had enjoyed her day there.

Another "Precious" - which usually lives in my box of treasures - really my jewelry box (though there isn't much in it beyond costume jewelry as I wear my only "good" jewelry all the time (my rings) - along with locks of hair and baby hospital bracelets. I think perhaps I should really add it to her baby album - that way it won't get lost.

Don't forget to pop over to Sian's for more stories - just click here

Thanks for stopping by
'til later

Banaghtyn, J x

Storytelling Sunday - - Something old

Welcome, welcome - - - here we are again at another Storytelling Sunday - hosted for a 3rd year by Sian at High on the Sky. This year Sian asked us to record and share something Precious - - and the many storytellers who participate have found a myriad of things - special and significant in their lives to share a host of wonderful stories - - so here is mine for June, rather late for Sunday I know - and for that I am sorry, nevertheless I hope you enjoy my precious.

- - they hang there in my wardrobe, slightly incongruous amongst my coats, dresses, jackets, skirts and blouses. Two small garments - very rarely worn - indeed - one of them only worn once, and the other has only had a handful of outings, both too small for me now - yet I keep them hanging in my wardrobe. I wonder sometimes why I keep them - especially now, as I often think they are unlikely to ever be used again - -  and yet - - -

The oldest is now the softest of fabrics, probably because of its age - - it feels fragile to my touch and I love its delicate prettiness - - the other is silky and feels so much stiffer, though, like the other was made for the softest of skins. Neither has been worn for many years - - they were last worn together  26 years ago.

The oldest was worn 22 years ago this month, a very tiny white gown of the softest lace - - - my family Christening gown, that was made new for me, by my mum from her wedding veil, then worn by my sister, my eldest daughter, my son and then my second daughter. Perhaps one day I will have a little grandchild who might wear it once again - - .

The other garment is a tiny white quilted jacket - - new for our son - - made of satin - a lovely sheen on it, and a little more "masculine" we felt, than the lacy shawl that my daughter had been wrapped in on her Christening Day - - -

Two items this month I know - - but they are irretrievably linked in my eyes so that I see them always a one precious pairing.

There are a host of stories around the web this week - you can find links to them all here, so do drop in.

Thanks for stopping by
'til later,
Bannaghtyn, Jen x

Storytelling Sunday - - - A very special day

Well - where did April go to  then?? I can't believe how quickly Storytelling Sundays come round - May already - -  and time for another visit to Sian at High in the Sky and other friends round the world who share a story or two. Sian suggested "precious" as this year's theme - - and as I have written these posts and looked at my special items I have begun to realise  - as I suspect many of you have also - that the reason these small items I am choosing ARE precious is the person I link them with in my memory - - -

- - - it was raining - quite hard now - - as the car pulled up in at the door - - it didn't matter - M------ was ready with an umbrella! The group of young women huddled in the shelter of the doorway all moved forward as a group as the car door opened to let the occupants emerge.
The young man emerging smiled rather shyly at them all before turning back to the car door as first a prettily shod foot appeared, followed by a hand in a white glove. He took hold of the glove hand , helping the girl out of the car as M------ sheltered her from the gusts of wind and flurries of rain with her every ready umbrella, as they moved forward into the shelter of the buildings porch
A small girl in pink danced forward " I'm here mummy, I'm here" she squeaked excitedly, "don't I look pretty? Mummy you look BEAUTIFUL  and see my dress" "stay in the porch L---- , and thank you sweetheart, you look beautiful too!" the young woman smiled at her small daughter's excitement. The door swung open and the whole party moved inside, followed by the cluster of women who had waited in the rain to see them arrive,  to find members of their families waiting for them - - - -
- - -along with the Registrar - who led the group into the Wedding Room - for he and I to become man & wife, witnessed by our family and the group of my work colleagues - who had all crept out of work just to see us arrive and ended up staying and watching the simple ceremony - - -27 years ago this month - how did it get to be so long ago????

That was the day I was given today's "preciousssss" (sorry! I couldn't quite keep Gollum out of my  head). May is our Anniversary month so it seems very appropriate that I share my ring with you. It has never left my finger since the Artisan placed it there - - all those years ago now, and it has been joined by a couple of others - each a symbol of how much he cares for me, and in that I know I am blessed.
There are a lot more stories around today, you can find links to them all here, at High in the Sky with Sian. And remember, you are most welcome to share a story of your own.
'Til later,
Thanks for stopping by -

Bannaghtyn, J x

Storytelling Sunday - - - A Little Book of Wisdom

My daddy is a quiet gentleman, patient, kind and quietly spoken and I have always known he loves us dearly - I know he still does as I am fortunate that he is still with us. Growing up I don't think that our family was especially demonstrative  - but hugs and squeezes were always readily available when when wanted or needed. However we rarely got gifts or presents of any kind - birthdays, Christmas and a treat whilst on holiday was the limit for gifts - - and daddy especially, rarely brought us unexpected gifts, yet when I was 13 he came home with this little book - - and gave it to me.
At 13 - -I was still a "little girl" in a lot of ways - I still loved my Bunty comic with the paper dolls on the back page! Oh how I loved them (I've always suffered from what my mum called "cutty-itis"- I love cutting out - "fussy cutting" as the Americans term it - - but I digress), playing with my dolls - making clothes for them I think, reading, doing jigsaws - - - all the typical pursuits of my generation. However I was heading towards adulthood - - I had recently been confirmed - and was I think beginning to really appreciate "wise words" - I had my own Prayer book and had been given my granny's bible - so beautiful words were just really registering as being important to me - - -

As I look back now - I realise daddy had noted this - and when he saw this little book knew that I would love it - - - he was right. A little shabby now - and well thumbed - one of those you "drop in" on  - but precious not only for its contents - it really is full of wise words - but because daddy gave it to me. It sits on my book shelf still -  next to my Prayer book.

These days there are many of these types of little books  - - I see them all over - - but this is the one that is precious to me - - - an unexpected gift from daddy - - -that really demonstrated how well he knew me as a girl - - - the world's most priceless gift actually.

Thanks for stopping by - - there are lots more stories around today courtesy of Sian from High in the Sky - do pop over - just here - and maybe you have a story of your own we could share?

'til later
Bannaghtyn, J x

Storytelling Sunday - Treasured tools

 "Mummy, is that a dress for my dolly?" I asked. She smiled at me, "yes" she replied "let me get my thimble to finish it off." "Why do you want your thimble mummy?" I said - puzzled, "Because I can't sew without my thimble," she answered.
" I can't sew without my thimble," - - - that baffled me - I just didn't understand what she could possibly mean? One uses a needle and thread - and pushes it through the fabric? How silly to say she can't sew without her thimble - - -

Do you sew? I don't very much anymore - but there was a time when I did - a lot - not only with my sewing machine but also by hand. Mum wasn't the only one to make clothes for my dolls - I made clothes for my dolls too as a child, I made and dressed dolls as an adult, I made quilts, I embroidered, I did cross stitch, I made clothes for myself and my eldest daughter - so yes - you could say I sewed, but mum's words "I can't sew without my thimble" still baffled me well into adulthood!
However, only a few years later - ( I was making a lot of quilts, and suffering from rather sore fingers and getting exasperated with twisting thread I think) mum gave me one of her thimbles and a small piece of beeswax. The thimble was a little too small for her at that time and she just said "Try it" and "pull your needle and thread through the wax, it will stop it knotting up" . I wasn't sure to be honest - - the thimble felt clumsy on my finger and I was quite convinced I wouldn't be able to sew with it. Ever!!! ( Daughters often think they know best!!)
I still have that thimble - over thirty years later, and I always have beeswax in my sewing box  - she is right about the wax too! A funny little object - and a little boring perhaps to seem precious - but it is an essential - and as Mum gave me that thimble, it is doubly precious - whenever I look back down memory lane and think of mum  - she was wearing a thimble - I think she might have worn it ALL the time! this is it.

These are tools I can't manage without. My treasured tailors' thimble, as my mum was a tailoress and a piece of beeswax. I have only ever seen the thimbles with a closed tops on them to buy and I don't like them as I have discovered I can't manage with them  - - I really hope I never lose my thimble - I wouldn't know where to go to replace it, and I would have to - because this little piece of Sheffield steel is very, very precious now  - - you see, I can't stitch without it ! These days I understand my mum when she said "I can't sew without my thimble" - - - I can't either !!!

This story is brought to you courtesy of Sian from High in the Sky - who hosts Storytelling Sunday on the first Sunday of the month. There a lots more stories around - you can find them all here.

Thanks for dropping in.
'til later

Bannaghtyn,  J xx

Storytelling Sunday - February

- - once more blogland is full of stories today - - thanks to Sian from High in the Sky for hosting - and as I made a promise to myself to try to participate more often this year, here I am again.
Sian's suggested theme - precious - has lots of scope (details can be found here, )so do feel free to join in by sharing a story of your own.

Precious Perfume

The small girl stood at her side, looking up hopefully - the woman picked up the small black bottle and turning to the child bade her "hold out your hand". The little one obeyed delightedly - the smile stretching as granny squeezed the small, net covered rubber bulb - spraying sweet violet scented perfume on to her wrist - - - - -

It lives now in the pine cabinet in the alcove of the hearth -  just a small, rather pretty bottle, the gilding a little worn and the base slightly chipped, missing a couple of the small sparkly gems around the neck of the top - yet the painting/transfer/enamel on the sides is still in perfect condition- dating from the late 1940's or early 1950's. I am not sure just how old it is - not yet an antique or even very valuableI guess.

It used to sit on my Granny's dressing table  - and I remember it from when I was a tiny girl and she still had the shop - I have no idea how she got it - a gift from my mum perhaps?
It came to me as a 15 year old - I am not sure whether grandad or mum said I might have it when Granny died - but I suspect grandad - I can hear his voice in my head - "You have it, missy" is what I hear - he always called me "missy" ( and my sister was "little missy") but I am really not sure, the memory of grandad saying that to me could cover a myriad of small items!!
I need only to turn this little bottle round and round in in my fingers to be transported back in time - once again that small girl standing at granny's dressing table as she sprayed a little of the perfume it contained onto my wrist. The bottle still holds traces of that sweet violet perfume - - - the scent of granny - perfume was her only concession to "cosmetics" - and I think it might have been a Yardleys Eau de Toilette from the floral collection they made. I am not sure  any longer - I only know my little chipped glass bottle is priceless - to me and my mum anyway - another "precious".
Its home is rather cluttered with lots of "nick-nacks" - dust collectors really - and as I return my precious bottle to its home in the cabinet  I realise I ought to tidy it out. Maybe later.

There are a lot of stories to be found around the web today - you can find them here.

Thanks for stopping by
'til later,

Bannaghtyn - J xx

Storytelling Sunday - - Precious

- - is back for another year. Many thanks to Sian from High in the Sky for hosting - and I am going to try to participate more often this year, and have set myself a target - whether I hit it or not remains to be seen.
Sian has suggested a theme - and details can be found here, so do feel free to join in by sharing a story of your own.

Precious

It hung just to left of the mixer tap, with its’ easily recognisable logo, a great example of your typical “souvenir” - just one of a whole bunch that the boy had received as “freebies” as he built up his collection of favourite TV series and films. He had started his first collections as a young teenager - gradually replacing his original video tapes with the later DVDs. His love for these old TV series never left him - there he could escape - back to his childhood and early teens - when he had been himself - his real self - happy, smiling, kind and full of fun and laughter. The free gift of this set had delighted him - though maybe not so much his mum - “Where am I going to put them????” she had almost wailed when they had arrived!!
His DVDs hadn’t bothered her as much - they could live happily in his room - even though they were usually spread across his floor instead of on the shelves! But these - where was she to keep them for him?? Storage space was at a premium in her home - everything was “compact” and to the best of her ability she operated on a “one in/one out” system - with everything they purchased, and even with that in place their storage was full to capacity - to add an additional 8 items to her already overcrowded spaces felt like madness!!
Yet she couldn’t bring herself to say anything to him - he was SO pleased with them - he was almost himself again - light shining in his eyes as he unpacked them one after another . “I”ll use them, mum. You don’t mind, do you? You and  dad can use them too - no problem.” he said, looking at her hopefully - - -

What could I say? They made him happy - even if only for a brief moment in time - and now - this blue one is one of only two that were unbroken - - this one left here in the cottage, the other in his hands - - - - circumstance has made this mass produced souvenir unbelievably precious - - - a very basic navy blue mug - not even fine bone china at that - with the logo that proclaims “Trekkie” - and for me - infinitely precious. And to anyone who knew my boy - speaks his name as clearly as if he was still in the room with me, so that this year it became a way for him to be sharing Christmas with us - and that logo is especially significant now - My bright shining star - - - -

Thanks for stopping by - there are lots more stories around today, you can find links to them all here,
  'til later

Bannaghtyn,  J xx

December Days - 2nd December - Storytelling Sunday - -

- - with the lovely Sian at High in the Sky. The last one of the year Sian tells me - I have been very remiss in participating, being absent from blogworld a large part of this year - but as I am trying my very hardest to find some small pleasures as I fumble my way through this December I think a short story will not go amiss, and I can always add it to my December Days album, can't I? - shall we step back in time?
22nd November 19- - the night was very cold - in the hearth the fire glows warmly and flames lick the back of the chimney. The two little girls knelt on the hearthrug  - eyes lit like candles in anticipation. Neither of them was quite sure what mummy had in mind - but the air of expectation was dancing round the room so powerfully you could almost see it. On top of the sewing table at the side of mummy's chair is a tray with an old tea towel covering it's contents and a newspaper.
"Let's see what we have shall we? " smiled the young woman at the two excited little girls and she lifting the cloth to reveal an old tarnished mirror, a roll of cotton wool, silver glass glitter in a small tube, a tube of Bostik, and a small collection of  Christmas cake decorations - a small Plaster of Paris snowman, a pair of skaters, few sprigs of holly - (plastic of course), a Santa, 3 or 4 miniature Christmas Trees, a tiny plaster cottage, a small "Rudolph" and a miniature sleigh.
"Ooooh - mummy!" said the older child - "we can make a snowy scene!"
And so they did - much fun was had making that pond for the skaters, surrounded by a cotton wool snow lanscape - whilst the glitter got EVERYWHERE!!!  It would have been so much less mess with the glitter glue available today - but nowhere near as much fun!!

Thanks for stopping by
'til later
Bannaghtyn J xx

The Maypole - Storytelling Sunday

Today is Storytelling Sunday at Sian's - so today I share with you a memory -  and for lots more stories drop in on From High in the Sky.

- Granny opened up the big table in the room at the back of the shop and mummy tipped out her shopping bag - a myriad of soft colours cascaded across its surface - pale blue, soft rosy pink, lemon yellow, and white  - rolls of crepe paper, followed by yards and yards of wide ribbons in similar colours, and cheap and cheerful artificial flowers. "Here dad" said mummy to grandad - scooping up the ribbons and thrusting them into his hands - "should be long enough, I think, can you nail them to the top of the pole?" "Aye" he answered, "I can do that" before disappearing out to the yard.
Mummy tuned and looked at her small daughter - dancing with excitement at all this prettiness - "Is it my dress mummy? Is it my dress? Can I be pink? Can I, Can I??" Mummy laughed - "How about pink and white?" she asked " I need to make enough for all of you". - - -
- - so there we were, one sunny May Saturday afternoon - many years ago - dressed in crepe paper frocks - made by my mummy - dancing around a Maypole adorned with ribbons fixed on by my grandad and trimmed with flowers by granny, and yes , we did weave in and out to make a pretty pattern down the pole with the ribbons - - - followed by high tea, that as I remember it - - seemed like a street party. Happy days!!

Chilldren dancing around the Maypole at a summer fair in Dulwich park London. Photograph: Alamy

Hindsight makes me think that it was probably just we children who "picnicked" outside for our tea - but there were a good number of us - K-------, E-----, D----, W-------, K------, J--- , some whose names escape me and little old me. But when I do look back down those years - I only see smiling faces, and sunshine - and it always brings a smile to my face.

Image from The Graphics Fairy
This is brought to you as part of Sian's Storytelling Sunday - and more stories can be found here

Thanks for dropping in
'til later
Bannaghtyn, J x

Tea Party at the shop -- Storytelling Sunday

The shop was busy - it often was on a Saturday morning - and the small girl trotted purposefully after her granny as she went from the kitchen to the shop to serve her customers. She watched shyly from the doorway, wide eyed - as granny weighed potatoes, sliced bacon, weighed sugar or added home made cakes to paper bags for the women coming in for their weekly shop.
A steady stream of customers meant that cheerful banter was tossed back and forth over the counter - the housewives wanting groceries, men buying cigarettes and tobacco, children with halfpennies and pennies for weekend treats - Black Jacks, Fruit Salad (8 for a penny), Spanish and Kali (2oz for tuppence), Cadbury's Chocolate, Frys Five Boys, Shoelaces or 2oz of peardrops, sarsaparilla tablets, Uncle Joe's mintballs or caramels. To the little girl watching from the doorway between the kitchen and the shop it seemed like whole world came to granny's shop on a Saturday morning.
Soon it would be time to close - when she knew she would be able to have friends come to play with her in the backyard of the shop. It was a very large backyard - a rarity amongst these narrow streets surrounding the land which had once housed the mill - now blitzed -  and the little girls of the neighbourhood loved to play there, even though they were all older than J-------. They were accustomed to skipping on the cobbles, or making swings on the arms of a lamp post, however the yard was flagged - smooth and level - where they could play "house" and have tea parties, in what felt like luxury! There was a very large gate - it kept the boys out so they couldn't tease or get in the way with footballs!!
The shop bell tinkled and the door opened again to reveal two children, a fair child about 8 years old and a younger dark child with black curls and deep brown eyes, perhaps about 5,  followed by a smiling woman, her hair in a turban made from a scarf - "Here they are Janey." she said pushing the children forward slightly. "Oh hello Nellie" said granny - "come on in then" she beamed at the children as they scampered round the counter to the back of the shop and through to the kitchen. J------- squealed with delight to see them and hurriedly gathered together her dolls, crayons and a miniature tea set - thrusting them into the older children's hands as all three scampered outside - to find a small table and chairs already waiting for them.
The table was soon set - and much fun was had on that Saturday afternoon over fifty five years ago, as the three little girls, 8, 5 & 3  played with dolls, teddies, colouring books and crayons and had a tea party - totally enjoying the sunny afternoon, the sanctuary of the yard - (the boys with their football could be heard at the other side of the gate) whilst the gap between their ages just disappeared. . . . .

I was that 3 year old - and I can no longer remember any further details of that afternoon captured in this photo - I only remember that Aunty Nellie lived across the street from my granny's shop and that she was Elaine's mummy and that Kathleen lived next door to them and her parents were - I think - Irish. My granny's shop is no more -  - nor is the mill land - not even the streets remain - yet I was aware of such a strong sense of community there. I remember Maydays, the May Queen, a Maypole, costumes made from crepe paper, Whit Walks, Bonfire Nights - all community activities that all the street seemed to be involved in - yet I moved away from this area when I was 5 years old.
What a street party there would have been for that Royal Wedding in April this year!

Thanks for stopping by - this post is brought to you courtesy of Sian's Storytelling Sunday
and this months stories can all be found here.  

'til later

Bannaghtyn J x

Twenty years ago today

She really didn't feel like herself at all - fretful, worried, tearful - not what she should be feeling like anyway. Why, oh why she asked herself, before finding tears welling yet again - no reason she could think of - she should be filled with happiness - she knew that, - it wasn't as if this was the first time she had been in this situation. So why did she feel so low?? Perhaps because the 4 year old was so obviously wanting mummy - and he couldn't have cuddles here, perhaps it was because the older one had been so ill just recently? She only knew she didn't feel right being here - she needed to be at home.
The woman with the trolley was suddenly at her side - "Are you OK J-----?" she asked gently. Her wise eyes took in the younger woman's face - the brightness of the unshed tears, and the tension in her body, and she nodded to herself before smiling kindly at the woeful figure "Milk in your tea?" she said pouring a cup and placing it on the table in front of the girl, adding two biscuits to the saucer. "Drink your tea and have your elevenses" she said "I'll be back shortly".
The younger woman stared at the tea cup - maybe it would make her feel a little better - she picked up the cup and moved over to the window. Trees filled with blossom and blue skies - it looked like it was going to be a beautiful Bank Holiday tomorrow - and here she was, stuck in this room! She sipped her tea - "I want to go home" she thought again and once more tears welled in her eyes "I want to go home". A murmer of voices caught her attention - - looking up she saw two figures walking towards her - the woman from earlier, with a man. Oh dear - I wonder what he wants this time, she thought - she made a effort to smile - really he was very kind - "Good morning J-----" he said , "How are you today?" J----- answered in as cheerful a manner as she could - "Doing quite well I think". The man picked up a clipboard and began to study it carefully - he looked again at the older woman with him - "Are you sure it would be the best thing to do?" he asked her. "Absolutely certain" she answered briskly.
The man put the clipboard down - "Well - since it is such a lovely day - and as Sister assures me that this is the best thing to do for you - I think you should call your husband and get him to come along to collect you and your new daughter - and take you both home" he smiled at the young woman sitting on the bed, holding the new baby in her arms. "But make sure you get plenty of rest now" he said as he turned away.

Sister looked at the young woman and smiled - "I think this just might prevent the Baby Blues" she said shrewdly - "Let's get baby dressed now shall we?"

She was quite right - it did prevent the baby blues - which I hadn't suffered from before with my other children - and I am eternally grateful to Sister M---- not only for recognising its start - but for persuading Mr C-------- that I really should be sent home. Because you see - the older one was just recovering from, and the 4 year old was just starting with - the chicken pox. And much as they both loved daddy - they both wanted mummy as they hadn't been allowed into the maternity hospital to see her.

Today is the twentieth anniversary of that day - when we brought our new baby daughter home - the day before the May Day holiday. This post is also part of Storytelling Sunday - hosted by Sian at From High in the Sky.
Full details can be found here
Thanks for stopping by
'til later

Bannaghtyn J x