People have been chiding me for my prolonged non-blogging. No excuses really except that Winter saps my strength to such an extent that I usually lose the will to live between June and October and who would want to read about that?

Feeling has returned to my fingertips so now I can record the excitement of contemplating the arrival of Our First Grandaughter who is expected to put in an appearance in about three weeks.

Grumpy Girl is blooming: she looks healthy, relaxed and ready for anything which is just as well of course.

The only worry Right Foot and I have at all is the baby’s name. Grumpy is steadfastly non-committal and I fear the worst. One of those stern First World War names like Bertha, Dorothy, Mildred or Gladys. Could I love a child called Beryl even though she has a quarter of my genes residing inside?
Or the baby may be given a relative’s name in honour of a family member blessed with a winsome personality but cursed with an unattractive moniker.
I feel safe from all the cutely spelt names with their superfluity of Es and Is and the unfortunate inventions of a mother determined to be original but fear there is no hope of any of my current favourites making the cut. However, for what it’s worth here are my suggestions: Miranda, Alicia, Saskia.

Fat chance.