HAPPY NEWS just in...
HUGE CONGRATULATIONS to Claire and Chris, proud parents of another baby girl.
Nieve Francis McLarnon arrived at 00.58h on 1st February 2007, checking in at 5 lbs. 8 ozs.
Auntie Lyn says Nieve is absolutely gorgeous but very, very tiny. Both mother and baby are doing fine, but because Nieve is so teeny they're having to stay in hospital another day to make sure she feeds OK etc.
Hopefully everyone is 100% well and happily installed back at home by the time this message is posted.
Ciara will no doubt be very pleased to have a baby sister - apparently she was quite adamant she didn't want a boy!
More news and pics hopefully to follow shortly.
Friday, February 2, 2007
Sunday, January 28, 2007
'Twas the month after Christmas
A fitting start to the New Year, and the new family blog. A little ditty sent in by Margaret Thompson (nee Forster!) aka Meg, Mam, Mumsie, Auntie Margaret...
‘Twas the month after Christmas and all through the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse!
The stuffing I’d nibble, the turkey I’d taste
The yummies I’d eaten, gone straight to my waist!
The wine and the mince pies, the bread and the cheese
I should have just said, “No thankyou – please”
So as I dressed myself in my boyfriend’s old shirt,
I couldn’t believe my bottom… my belly… the girth!
I said to myself, as only I can,
‘Twas the month after Christmas and all through the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse!
The stuffing I’d nibble, the turkey I’d taste
The yummies I’d eaten, gone straight to my waist!
The wine and the mince pies, the bread and the cheese
I should have just said, “No thankyou – please”
So as I dressed myself in my boyfriend’s old shirt,
I couldn’t believe my bottom… my belly… the girth!
I said to myself, as only I can,
“You can’t spend the year disguised as a man!”
So away with the last of the sour-cream dip,
Get rid of the fruitcake, every cracker and chip.
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
Until all the additional ounces have vanished.
I won’t have a cookie, not even a lick
Instead I’ll chew on a long celery stick.
I won’t have Irish coffees, or chocolates, or pie,
I’ll munch on a carrot and quietly cry:
“I’m hungry, I’m lonesome, and life is a bore…
But isn’t that what January’s for?”
Unable to giggle, no longer a riot,
Happy New Year to all, and to all a good diet.
So away with the last of the sour-cream dip,
Get rid of the fruitcake, every cracker and chip.
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
Until all the additional ounces have vanished.
I won’t have a cookie, not even a lick
Instead I’ll chew on a long celery stick.
I won’t have Irish coffees, or chocolates, or pie,
I’ll munch on a carrot and quietly cry:
“I’m hungry, I’m lonesome, and life is a bore…
But isn’t that what January’s for?”
Unable to giggle, no longer a riot,
Happy New Year to all, and to all a good diet.
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