I.V.F. ing Good Luck, Baby......

My baby girl goes for fertility treatment soon. It's getting to the stage where every little baba I see, I picture myself and daughter mugging the pusher. Not that I'd give her much of a chance to shove the thing, for I know I be a selfish grandparent. When the most important female in your life lives 500 miles away, it's hard. And when this little mite eventually comes along, the pull will be harder. So I have to make the most of what ever time we find.  I can just picture that little face, a girl with golden red hair. Okay - the colour and fullness of mine - because it's my crowning glory and it would be our own special reminder of each other, our absent bond. Of course, they want a boy first, then the girl but I'm thinking that fertility treatment often results in multiple births, so mother nature dissing them this long just might make up for it!


My daughter, Kerri, is 29, and has polycystic ovaries. Her husband, James, had a testicle removed at a very young 26, through cancer. The irony is that they would make fabulous parents. Fun, laughter, security, love, and every other recipe in the raising-agent book. The pair of them have commited themselves to every bit of medical advice - which included giving up smoking - in preparation for the treatment.

Kek is the most genuine person I know. The first to help family or friends if she can - physically, emotionally and pecuniarily. I'm forever getting on to her for drinking and dialing. Lord knows how many charity sponsors and monthly donations come out of her wages! I know donkeys, African children, NSPCC and her beloved penguins all benefit!  She has letters after her name, all the latest gadgets, cars, and a beautiful home, but makes no great deal of it. Still she shops in Matalan and Primark. Still she collects Tesco club card points and cosies under duvets in front of her telly in winter.

I rarely pray but I will, and cross fingers, toes and any other part of me that's willing (or now able ) that she and I will be pushing a pram singing Ali Bali Bee in the near future. I'll leave you with my favourite picture of her from her wedding album.  Nae airs and graces when a hert beats true.

Little Miss Run Around

I use to love writing and reading out short stories for children when I was a helper in my sons' primary school years. This is my first story as I usually try verse here.  Now, I'm a bit rusty, but how to incorporate a huge sign and winter weather I was almost at a loss until I came up with this guff. Suffer little children......!
 
Clue nine at last! In the shed he found it and started to tear it open. His eyes kept watch of a meddlesome spider. What right had it living in winter? He was convinced it was nodding a warning antennae at him. Usually he would just stomp on creepy-crawlies, pelt at it before it got any closer,  but since falling in love with Ellie, he made a firm vow to her that he wouldn't kill any of natures' creatures.  It wasn't good for karma (whom ever that is!) but he pledged his 'Lovehearts Allegiance' (especially the violet ones) nonetheless.   So he let the thing torment him for just a bit longer.

It was Ellie's birthday today. That was her into double figures now. To make the day more special she was in hiding and Hugh was to seek her out. She'd set up a bundle of clues and all he had to do was follow them rigidly. It only took 10 mins so far, to fathom out the rhymes. His reward, apart from a fab day out tomorrow, would be a kiss. On the mouth this time.  His heart truly was hers. Quickly, he pulled out the clue. Each task had proved a little harder. But he'd now reached the penultimate clue! In a few minutes he'd taste those candy-floss lips. All soft and pouty.  It was only this clue away, and read out loud:

                                All you have to do now,
                                Is to make good of your senses
                                The last clue, points you straight to me
                                Around the roadside fences.


At that point Ellie's father appeared. Near gave Hugh the fright of his life, popping up over a pile of old boxes!

" Ah, lad...!" he sighed. "You've made it this far!. Well done!"

"Is anything wrong....?" Hugh panicked a bit. Mr Higgins was a loud kind of man, a voice for discipline he rarely used. Very dramatic in his ways.

"No, no, no.....well......ah,...as you know, Ellie likes a bit of a fuss, used to getting her own way - worse since her mother died - all I wanted to do was give you a 'help' regarding this final clue........"

"No, no. You mustn't. It has to be all down to me. They have led me this far, and the last clue I have right in my hands. I take it you know where she is..?

"Of course, but......"

"Then make your way towards her. I'll find her soon enough......You do know I love your daughter very much?"

"I know lad"  Mr.Higgins nodded his head, unconvincingly. This time next month she will be tormenting some other boy, flaunting her beauty and wealth at him and he will be the next cinder that outs as a new flame begins.  "All I will say is, remember how ostentatious she can be.....how she thrives on shock!  How the little madam loves a showstopper!!!"

Hugh gulped, as the man became rather distraught.  Reckoned it couldn't be easy bringing up a daughter on his own.

" Right then, lad. See you shortly, very shortly, if you follow my guide."  He tapped the side of his nose.

              *                               *                           *                           *

 The following day, Ellie sat across from Hugh, swinging her legs nonchalantly under the table while Mr.Higgins carried the tray of food over.

"Didn't you even once question what the giant, lit up arrow was all about...?" he asked Hugh.

"I did wonder a bit as I've seen daft birthday banners and things by busy roadsigns but that's usually for older people.  Thought it had been dumped. Left over Christmas banner or something. I was concentrating more on the clue to be honest"

"And I was behind that sign, too! "Ellie reminded him for the umpteenth ."All I wanted you to do was find me and get a snap of us together before our day out!  To show you how clever I was. How hard was that..?

"In all fairness, Ellie, " her father said, Hugh did wait on the hill with the toboggans for over an hour before you eventually thought he might be there........and the police weren't too happy, either....huge road signs included. Bad idea, bad idea."

'Ahhh, don't worry, dad. Next year I'll see in my birthday on the Eiffel Tower or similar. Not even you could botch this one up, Hugh....you know, one foot in front of the other in the right direction.!"

                                   *                                      *                                             *
Dropping Hugh off, he handed Ellie yesterday's birthday card..."You may as well still have it, he traveled a fair bit to get to you.....Thanks for the meal Mr.Higgins."

At home Ellie bounced on her over-sized chair then stopped to open her card, instantly letting out hysterical screams.  "In the card, in the card.......!!"

Mr.Higgins ran through. Picking it up, he tentatively opened the card and read:

                           I so enjoyed the birthday girl
                          A great idea to hide her....
                          So  I send this card
                          In great regard......
                         Love, Hugh and Squish the spider.

Trying to stifle the giggles , Mr Higgins, asked rather squeakily, as he viewed the spiders remains.... "I take it the romance is off, then?"

Millicent Moves / Arsenic and Old Faces

Little Milly Mundy
Was the one who trailed behind
With teeny steps, away she'd fret
In her hurried little mind.

A crisp and gentle morning
She'd round up the other maids
A venture out, just round about
In coat and boots of suede

Minute Milly Mundy
Loved out walking to and fro
The swish and flail of her petticoat tail
Left no markings in the snow.

Her breath released no vapour
As she coldly marched along
Although she'd shout, her heart all-out
They still would hurry on

Itsy Millie Mundy
Caught up with the girls in time
Where they'd lay a bloom, with sweet perfume
On the pave with gentle rhyme

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Arsenic and Old Faces.....

They whooped it up most evenings
Took laudanum and ale
Their dome-like dresses drawn in tight
By baleens of a whale

In gaslight they embraced the streets
Inflicted, hardened faces
With porous noses throbbing
Such feminine disgraces

Preached and thumped the Bible
Though regardless to The Word
Would slug you if the slightest
 Epithet was ever heard.

They smelled of parma violets
More sudorific under clothes
Entertained a gentleman
For just one whiskey rose.

Meddlesome and nippy
The morals of a rat
Would smile and dip your pockets
As you politely tilt your hat

Oh, what a clever trio
Victory set apart
Arsenic, lace, and wrinkly face
Experts of their art  

My Father's Ears

This Week's Magpie Tale is in honour of my dad, a musical genius!  He could play ANY instrument by ear and was often asked by schools and local organisations to play piano for them. I thought he had magic.He also had the voice of an angel - despite his 40 Woodbine a day and beef dripping lifestyle. Miss you dad...!

A symphony-of-ages
Was my father to the earth
A music maestr-au natural
From the moment of his birth

He'd feel a certain melody
Pitch perfect, lingered notes
Voice carried on by  placid waves
Some words in double quotes

Music was his passion,
His biggest will to live
If nothing else was there to take
It was always there to give

I remember all the instruments
Even tiny ones he blew
If music be the food of love
I was nourished through and through

I still can hear him playing
Although he isn't  there
Passed on through genes, to tots and teens
Till grey streaks wisp our hair

Any type of music
Most, he very much approved
He was open to all genres
Left us happy, special, moved.

Now you're with 'The Big Man'.
I bet you've sussed those harps
Coz you never understood those books
Of majors, minors, sharps.

You see, he never had a teacher
Nor read a music sheet
Just listened so intently
Captured every single beat.

All it took was seconds
For him to fathom out
What instruments were made to do
No need to write about.

The above picture is of my father and his other musical compatriots during the war. Keeping the spirits of many alive with a tune or two. He's on guitar.......

11-Up.

 My stars say that 2011 is going to be a successful year for me in both monetary and lucky in love measures, but I'm just glad that everything is back to abnormal. I feel safer that way..........!