godmother

I love being a godmother. I have seven delightful, gifted, talented godchildren, five of whom spent the day here. I'm always touched by the way this family looking forward to being here! It was extra special this time, as this visit had been postponed twice due to the usual coughs, colds, viruses, lurgies and plagues that work their way through big families.

Because our Christmas get together had to be cancelled we exchanged prsents today, and I was put to shame, because all the presents we gave were bought - lovingly and carefully chosen, but bought - whereas the children brought beautiful home made jewellery, angels, and funny faces with grass seeds on the tops of their heads so you can water them and make them grow. (The funny faces, not the children). They are very impressed at having a godmother who writes books, but I'm looking forward to wearing my new jewellery in the hope that somebody wil admire it and I can tell them about my godchildren. Not just talented, either, but warm, loving, and thoroughly show-offable. The boys try very patiently to teach me about robots, space vehicles, and intergalactic battles, but I don't really get it, being more of a Jane Austen girl myself. I have more in common with Miss Not-Quite-Twenty-Months-Old who likes hats, especially mine, and looked very stylish in it while talking at great length on the phone. I wish I knew what she was saying, it sounded fascinating.

However, they're not so brilliant that they do all this wonderful creative stuff unaided. Parents have their uses. Children - YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE - give them a hug and tell them how brilliant they are. And please teach me to make angels.