Ooops again, it’s been a while. Benedict is 8 months old now and he can crawl, pull himself up, cruise around the room, and even stand momentarily on his own. He is doing so well.



He weighs about 15lbs now, he is on the 2nd percentile and slowly climbing. He eats three meals a day and 2-3 snacks of finger food. He still loves to eat his pouchies, but he also enjoys lots of finger foods and will try anything. He loves hummus, salmon, brocolli, banana, carrots etc.

We went to visit little GIdeon’s grave earlier this month. I wanted to plant flowers, it was pretty overgrown as we haven’t been able to visit for a while, but there were still flowers blooming, which was reassuring.



I almost walked past it though, it was so hard to see his stone. We fixed it up in no time though while Benedict played on a blanket.



We planted a few flowers, mainly just cleared up the weeds.

106_2337Even Benedict wanted to help planting



It was a lovely trip.



Next week we are going to the lake district for a couple of days. Just for a quick break and to celebrate 13 years since my husband and I met.

I’ve not been so well. This unexplained chronic illness has become very bothersome over the past few months. I eventually decided to go to the doctors again and they repeated the ANA test which was positive last time but they refused to refer me. It was of course “mildly” positive again and this time I have a referral. But I’m told it could be months. Meanwhile I’m trying to figure it out. I’ve become very photosensitive, my flares are certainly triggered by the sunlight. Taking that into account with my symptoms, I am considering lupus as a possibility and meanwhile always wearing a very fetching pink hat and suntan lotion wherever I go. This seems to help reduce my symptoms, especially the pain and dizziness.



Just hoping to get a diagnosis, so I can get some treatment. Claw back a bit of vitality into my life!

I will leave you with a poem by William Wordsworth. In a local cemetery is a grave that says “we are seven.” I’ve seen it before and wondered about it, I decided to google it and came across this poem. it is thought Wordsworth saw the very same grave and wrote his poem after.



here is the poem. It really touched me. It made me think of Gideon, and how I always see us as a family of four…even though my Gideon is not with us.

We Are Seven

by William Wordsworth
—A simple child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad:
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
—Her beauty made me glad.

“Sisters and brothers, little maid,
How many may you be?”
“How many? Seven in all,” she said,
And wondering looked at me.

“And where are they? I pray you tell.”
She answered, “Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea.

“Two of us in the churchyard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the churchyard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother.”

“You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell,
Sweet maid, how this may be.”

Then did the little maid reply,
“Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the churchyard lie,
Beneath the churchyard tree.”

“You run about, my little maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the churchyard laid,
Then ye are only five.”

“Their graves are green, they may be seen,”
The little maid replied,
“Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door,
And they are side by side.

“My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.

“And often after sunset, sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.

“The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.

“So in the churchyard she was laid;
And, when the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we played,
My brother John and I.

“And when the ground was white with snow
And I could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side.”

“How many are you, then,” said I,
“If they two are in heaven?”
Quick was the little maid’s reply,
“O master! we are seven.”

“But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!”
‘Twas throwing words away; for still
The little maid would have her will,
And said, “Nay, we are seven!”