Monday, 13 August 2012

On tenter hooks*

I hadn't realised quite how emotionally fragile I am until this morning when I woke after an horrendous night's sleep, waking every two hours and battling with the most bizarre of mental tasks.  Such is the nature of dreams. I had niavely anticipated that upon waking I would receive the news that our new grandchild was safely delivered. But no, as yet the process is ongoing. I'm told that early induction is not a quick affair.

Our youngest daughter, having had the dreadful loss of her first child at 37 weeks, is about to deliver her next and is being induced just before the same stage in her pregnancy. I took to our bed last night in that sort of "will-I-be-woken-in-an-hour-or-so" state of mind which meant that I did indeed wake every two hours to look at the clock and ponder the state of things.

I have jobs to do but I'm finding it difficult to concentrate on them. One is to finish the washing of all the cat paraphernalia and to pack it away in the loft. It's not that we an anticipating having another cat at any time, but if the current one is to return after his three week sabbatical, then I feel that fate will decree it is only when all trace of him has been cleaned away and his belongings secreted somewhere fairly inaccessible. Hence rather than betray him, I do hope he feels I've done enough for him now to return. Wouldn't it be lovely if, upon news of the birth of our grandchild, our cat were nochalantly to amble back in.  And if you add to that perhaps a major lottery win - a picture of flying pigs inexplicably fell from the wall this morning - my joy would be complete.

* Tenterhooks are hooks which enable wet cloth to be stretched by its selvedges on a tenter - a frame - to stop it shrinking in the process of woollen cloth production.

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