Jaqui's Daily Blog

When The Ordinary is Special

The Middle of the Darling Daughters, being a Very Busy Person, had omitted to tell her husband about the caterpillars. He was, therefore, somewhat perplexed to receive in the post, five caterpillars plus food. Why, he asked his wife, would anyone send them caterpillars by post?


History has not recorded his reaction when he heard that it was his Mother-in-Law (that’ll be me, then) who had arranged such a bountiful delivery though I rather suspect, once he heard, it will have made a certain sense to him, knowing me as he does. He did, bless him, take the responsibility of the poor babies very seriously and when I arrived at theirs on Tuesday the caterpillars were on the windowsill, covered by a cloth to keep out the sunshine, as advised in the instructions.


The Trio of Rampaging Rascals were not inclined to leave the caterpillars to their silent munching on the windowsill and took it in turns to inspect them for signs of growth, carrying them over to where I am sitting and inviting my participation in their studies. The Butterfly Garden in which the butterflies will eventually flutter (always providing, of course, they survive the not-so-very tender administrations of the Trio - which is quite a big ask) was unpacked from its box with great delight. Everybody agreed that it was a good thing there were five caterpillars, bearing in mind there were five members of their immediate family. Possibly fortunately, nobody suggested that we name each caterpillar which could only be A Good Thing, bearing in mind it was quite impossible to distinguish one from t’other.


I had left Mr B in the capable hands of the Lovely Louise while I had a sleepover with the Youngest of the Darling Daughters plus precious time with her and her sister. It worked beautifully as I was able to spend a delightful afternoon with The Trio and their mamma, followed by a relaxing evening and morning in the peace and quiet of the Y of the DD’s home. The very best of both worlds as you will agree.


Special, you see, doesn’t necessarily have to be out of the ordinary. In fact, as circumstances mean I haven’t been able to enjoy for some time experiencing the day-to-day activities of my families, the ordinary is most definitely special. I love nothing more than taking a littl’un to school or meeting him or her from school. I love walking through the bluebell woods with them, knowing that this is the walk they take every school-day. I love sitting in the community café talking about the big clock on the wall which apparently is a constant subject for conversation.


The Twins, Tala and Lilia, have me sussed. I am trying to guess what they did at nursery school - did they sing? Play with plasticine? Listen to stories? Play in the toy kitchen? At every question they shake their heads, eyes sparkling with mischief, and tell me “No!” I decide to change the course of the conversation as it seems to be going nowhere, albeit to the obvious whole-hearted delight of the Little Ones. Who is in charge at Small School, I ask them. Miss Chew Chew was the answer. What does she look like? I pursue the conversation doggedly. She is tall, with blue eyes and golden hair, looks like a princess - and wears a crown. It is at this point that I, gullible as I am, decide they are probably kidding me...but I Let It Go...


The second half of my Twin Centre mini-break is with the Youngest of the Darling Daughters and her fella, Dunk’em Dave (on account of his nefarious activities on Family Beach Days.) Did we do anything, well, special? you want to know. 


Actually we do all the ordinary things. We sit in the conservatory and watch the birds in the garden enjoying all the tit bits offered up for their delectation and delight. We drink coffee, we chat, we look through old photographs, we reminisce. We even close our eyes for twenty minutes and nod off which the Youngest of the Darling Daughters says is exactly the right thing to do, bearing in mind I am supposed to be having a Restful Time. We find time to take my car, the Grand Old Lady, into the local garage for attention to the exhaust which appears to be, well, exhausted - but this is good because it means the Youngest of the Darling Daughters tots up lots of steps on her Fitbit, walking to and from the garage and the café where we have breakfast waiting for the garage to advise on the Grand Old Lady’s treatment. You know it makes sense.


I head home around 3.30 p.m. My car purrs quietly instead of making an Almighty Racket as it did on the journey up. I sing as I drive because I have had an absolutely, wonderfully, special time. There is, fortunately, nobody to hear me. 


Remember you read it here first - there is nothing, absolutely nothing, quite so special as the ordinary...

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Latest comments

23.04 | 20:15

lovely and heartwarming - an inspiration to us all x

09.03 | 12:07

Love this story told as ever beautifully.x

10.11 | 21:31

What a super account of a special event. I loved meeting you last night and seeing your creation come together. I’m so pleased you got so much from the activity

07.09 | 13:17

I have broad shoulders x

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