It is my twin sons birthday today which has made me think about their birth in hospital in Winchester, fifty two years ago. It was fairly easy and straightforward as far as I remember, though I did have a secret fear that they would be siamese twins and I did not know how I would manage. It was a great relief when they arrived separately But there have been all these programmes on the television: Call the Midwife and One Born Every Minute which go though the whole process in excruciating detail. Everyone loves these shows and I do too, but I wonder how anyone has the courage to have a baby at all after watching them.
I have been thinking about moving from this cottage. I took the plunge and called in at the estate agents. (I have always had an irrational fear of them.) I looked at a few flats. Inconvenient as this place is, with its steep stairs, roaring traffic outside, nowhere to park, my car being bashed into on a regular basis, no buses ,and nowhere to hang your hat and coat, it is nicer than those flats with their plasticky doors and windows and imitation fireplaces. So I think I will stay put for the time being, unless something amazing turns up.