Anderson shelter

With the new extension about to be built, we decided to open up the Anderson (air raid) shelter. Built around the same time as the house, which was completed in 1939 just as the Second World War was about to begin, it has been abutting the patio for the last couple of decades and possibly had a life as a rudimentary garden shed before that, judging by the rusting tools the boys found in the shelter. There is a three foot drop from the path down to a "vestibule" into which you had to crouch, then a turn and a further drop of about four feet to the interior of the shelter itself. I suspect this brick-lined "vestibule" is not original and was formed as a cornerstone when the patio was built between the rear of the house and the shelter, sometime in the 1990s or thereabouts, before we moved in.

The Anderson shelter probably stood on its own at the time of its construction, as the garden would have been immature to non-existent, and was probably accessed directly through the end wall. Its simple construction comprised a barrelled concrete roof arching over a concrete box. It goes well below the level of the surrounding garden and presumably would have contained some form of seating such as benches to provide a degree of comfort. We'll never know if it was used; if the original owners huddled inside by candlelight as bombers droned over the Pentlands on their way to bombing the Forth Bridge and blitzing the shipyards and docks at Leith and Newhaven.

A decade in Swanston

Ten years ago this evening, Sharon and I were sitting in a mess of couches and boxes and beds and crates, having just moved into Swanston Terrace. Sometimes as I look about the house after the boys have gone to bed, it doesn't look much different from how it did then - cushions scattered everywhere, books strewn across floors, toys here and there and clothes piled in all corners and hanging off chairs and banisters.

We've done a bit to the house in those ten years. The single bedroom became a nursery with a fondly-remembered tree painted on one wall and, then, had a couple of occupants in Sean and Finn. The dining room was at the front of the house but we relocated it to the conservatory as Sean grew out of the nursery. With Rowan due to put in an appearance, we went for the attic conversion, losing some of the square hall and the nursery, which became the hub from where Sharon has grown her Pampered Chef empire, but acquiring two bedrooms and a shower-room as well as a flight of stairs. The spare bedroom became a playroom and the nursery moved to the front of the house. Now, with Angus having outgrown the cot, he and Rowan are upstairs in their room and Sean and Finn are well established in the back upstairs bedroom.

We've made some recent changes to the garden, gradually removing the many shrubs and conifers at the front and rear. Sadly, the rowans either side of the entrance to the drive had to go as one was diseased and the other was starting to overgrow on to the road. They were a feature I'd like to re-establish and are one of my first memories of viewing this house.

What next? We'd love to extend at the back and relocate the kitchen to give us more of a family room, especially as that family will likely feature four lanky lads in a few years' time. But the current economy and uncertainty means we have little desire to borrow more so for now we'll continue to sketch and dream and look at the occasional bigger property with envious eyes. Sharon always said that this was the house for her, that she never wanted to move again and we are happy here - but an extra metre or two on every room would be nice!

Ruling the roost

With his brothers living it up on tour in Ireland, Angus made the most of being the sole child. He didn't know what to do with all the attention! I was back at work so Sharon was bearing the brunt of him dogging her every move until Thursday, when she headed off to conference down in Birmingham.

With the boys away, I took advantage by tidying up their tip of a room. Angus has been a demon in distributing books, Lego pieces, gogos and assorted small toys throughout the house, especially the playroom and the boys' bedrooms. Recently Rowan was sleeping in the bunk bed in the playroom (and loving it) as Angus had graduated from his cot to the adjustable bed. However, Sharon had snared a couple of IKEA beds second-hand on gumtree.com, so I dismantled Sean and Finn's beds and relocated them to the front bedroom, back to where they were originally. This meant the trusty cot finally being dismantled after well over eight years' sterling service and retired to the front attic. No time for sentiment really: the boys are getting bigger and moving on to newer stages in their lives. Angus's adjustable bed was dismantled too and removed to the garage as he seems to have adapted well enough to a bed and should be OK in the bigger bed. Sean and Finn now have their new beds which are a bit wider than before but there are now four full-sized beds with decent mattresses upstairs, so that should do them for a few years to come.

As Angus was at nursery Thursday and Friday, we didn't have that much time together. We went to Sainsburys on Thursday evening, where he said hello to all and sundry, and on Friday we popped into IKEA for some mattress covers. Saturday was rainy and we spent the day sorting out the big pile of washing and new T-shirts the boys acquired on their holidays.

Sharon meanwhile was having a busy, tiring time of it at conference, presenting two workshops, managing her team and having to take Hannah to casualty after Morven fell on her legs. Fortunately there was no serious problem but it was the wee small hours before they got back to bed. Not ideal. Sharon was a tad weary when I picked her up from the airport late (flight delayed) on the Saturday night.

April Fool

It's been a hard enough first quarter, this year. We've just had our third bout of sickness and diarrhoea through the house since the turn of the year, Sharon has been really struggling with sinus trouble, Angus has had everything going since he started nursery, Rowan has a permanent cough and the snow won't go away. So we've been looking forward to the Easter holidays, a chance for some much needed rest and relaxation and a family trip to Mallorca.

But today, we became aware of the ongoing public sector dispute in Ireland which has meant, among other things, that passport applications have not been processed. Neither Sharon, Rowan nor Angus have passports: Sharon had sent hers and Rowan's to be renewed at the same time as she applied for one for Angus. Apparently there is a backlog of 50,000 applications to be processed. We don't even know if the paperwork is in London or Dublin. Sharon sent the applications to the Irish Embassy in London, unaware that they then forward them to Dublin. With no paperwork (current passports, birth certificates, etc.), we can't apply for UK passports instead, although we've discovered all this so late that there's no time to do that anyway (it takes a week for a new passport application to be processed and the first available appointment in Glasgow was next Wednesday).

As of today, the public sector workers have lifted their overtime ban, but it would seem to be too little too late to help us, especially with the Easter weekend due. Marie is going to go up to Dublin on Tuesday to see if there's anything she can do by being present in person at the passport office but reports on the length of queues and people chaining themselves to cubicles don't fill me with optimism. Unless the new passports arrive by next Friday, I'll likely have to travel with Sean and Finn, meeting Marie and Michael in Mallorca, and leaving Sharon, Rowan and Angus at home. Far from the ideal holiday we'd been looking forward to.

And today, with all the snow melting, Sharon discovered water running down the kitchen wall from a leak where frost-shattered tiles had cracked and slipped down the roof. Fortunately she was able to get that fixed at short notice.

April Fool? If only it was.

More gadgets

The weather has turned milder but there are still a couple of traces of snow by the house that are taking forever to thaw. And a mystery green car (taxed till the end of March) has been parked in our road for three weeks now.

Rowan was back at his swimming lessons this week after missing out due to his cough last week. As ever, he talked throughout the lesson. Sharon said it was a wonder he didn't drown, he was talking so much, not listening to the teacher at all. He claims, not surprisingly for Rowan, that he doesn't talk all the time at pre-school nursery. Early indications are that the teachers are delighted with him.

Angus is eliciting similar reactions at Fairmile Kindergarten where he is welcomed with open arms, cited as a perfect baby who is quite happy to play about and get cuddles all day. He can be a bit grumpier at home, perhaps because he has to accept a split in attention with his big brothers. Sharon lost him the other morning and engaged the boys to go on an Angus hunt. He was located behind the bathroom door, pulling the bathroom bin over (again). It's only a matter of time before he crawls into a room and traps himself by pushing the door closed.

The stream of gadgetry entering the house continues. I've now set-up a wireless router and this week a new laptop arrived to exploit this new capability. Coverage in the sitting room isn't great, unfortunately (the Wii can connect to the Internet wirelessly too), but this will allow the boys computer time under Sharon's eye in the kitchen while she's making dinner or let her deal with the odd e-mail without burynig herself in the office. Undoubtably our boys will grow up in a completely different technological environment. There was me getting a Sinclair Spectrum 16K computer at the age of 15 and there's Finn, adept at using the touchpad and mouse at the age of 5. Even Rowan is no slouch.

The White House

With the hot weather starting to dissolve in periodic bands of heavy showers, Michael and Adrian began the task of painting the house. It was last done around '99 or 2000, before we moved in, and the re-faced chimney (2006) was in danger of developing new cracks if we didn't attend to its upkeep. The sight of Michael painting with a pillowcase over his head in the Saturday heat was one which evaded the camera. They were able to crack on between the showers and do the house, gutters, garage and dividing wall as well as Adrian fixing up the rotting door and window frame on the garage and replacing some of the mortar above the front of the garage. All in all, a very productive week.

I took the big three out to Dunbar for a sunny Saturday where Sean and Finn had a great time paddling around the partially submerged bridge. Rowan wasn't so keen on the water however, perferring to sit and get dirty on the sand, which of course required him to be doused in the water to clean him up, with predictable consequences. Sean and Finn too were maddening when it came to getting cleaned up, forever dragging freshly cleaned flesh back through the sand. After ice-creams we drove to Gifford for a stone-throwing session in the river and a run around the play-park. It became evident that the sun had been piercing the thin cloud as we all developed a colour, especially me and Finn, with his usual tell-tale white stripes where the legs of his glasses had cast a shadow.

Sharon came down with another bout of mastitis, fortunately not as bad as the last one, as Angus continues to demand a lot of feeding and Sharon struggles to keep up. With her return to Pampered Chef action at the conference in a few days it's important she gets as much rest as possible, which is not proving easy as Angus is still waknig twice a night but not feeding that well when he does waken.

Nailed it!!

The two (plus) weeks of Easter holidays seemed the ideal opportunity to tackle the problem of the two thumb-sucking boys. Sean's front teeth are getting looser and he will soon have his adult teeth; Finn's upper gum is starting to get affected by the ever present thumb in the mouth, and he has a considerable overbite with his baby teeth. So the deal was struck with the two protagonists - if they allowed me to paint their thumb nails with Stop&Grow for the two weeks of the holidays without complaining, they got to go to Toys'r'Us and pick a toy of their choice today.

It's been such a delight seeing them watching telly, or sitting in their car seats, with both hands firmly in their laps, no thumb-sucking at all! To say I am pleased is an understatement. Needless to say, Rowan couldn't be left out and kept offering a digit to be painted when the other two were being treated. Let's hope that that sees the end of it.

One thing I sadly won't be seeing the end of for a few weeks yet is my SPD (Symphsis Pubis Disfunction). My pelvic joints, normally held in place with ligaments which have now softened too much as a result of the hormones in my body, are a constant source of pain and discomfort at the moment. I've been prescribed crutches to help take some of the weight off my pelvis when walking and also to help normalise my stride as I had started limping to compensate for the pain. All of this I could really do without, as three young lads and a pair of crutches does not a happy partnership make! Apart from the physical side of it, I am struggling more so with the mental challenge of having to slow down, rest more, and not do as I normally do. It sounds daft, but this has been very upsetting. The inability, inactivity and general inconvenience of it have resulted in their fair share of tears.

Ian, Mam and Dad have been working so hard over the Easter holidays. Ian in particular has done a gargantuan amount of work, rotating bedrooms around in preparation for the baby coming in June. Sean and Finn are installed in the upstairs back bedroom, Rowan is now in his "big boy's bed" for night sleeps too and is in the upstairs front room that formerly was Sean and Finn's. The nursery still has cot, rocking chair and changing unit, and now houses the double bed for visitors. Dad's been painting, digging, etc., Mam has been making curtains for the boys' new room and also the sitting room. It's all go. Me? I've been doing diddly-squat, restricted by the damn SPD.

I suppose the next thing will be to start looking out some of the baby effects: car seat, crib, clothes, etc., and getting those ready. Seven weeks does seem a long way away though (given I add 2 weeks on for being overdue as usual).

The big switch

With Sean and Finn on their Easter holidays I thought it best I took a few days off myself and get the house in order before WW4 arrives. We had debated long and hard how to best re-shuffle the accommodation, given that Rowan was due to migrate from cot to bed as well as having to slot WW4 in somewhere after the obligatory settling-in period by our bed.

We finally settled on moving Sean and Finn to the upstairs rear bedroom, Rowan to the upstairs front bedroom and the spare double bed down to what was Rowan's room which will become a nursery-cum-spare-bedroom. This prompted a move of the glazed dressers to the sitting room, the cube storage from the sitting room up to Sean and Finn's new room, the recall of some small bedroom cupboards from the garage for Rowan's new room and the purchase of some storage and a shelf for the big lads' room. Much redistribution of books, photos, clothes and bedding was also required to enable the various items of furniture to be moved.

A good deal of this was done on the Thursday when all the boys were elsewhere. I even re-painted Sean and Finn's feature wall from Raspberry Torte to Blue Reflections. It was a long day but everything feels as though it is in its proper place now. The spare room/nursery suddenly looks right, the sitting room now looks more formal and less of a mish-mash and Sean and Finn's room may have less floor space than they are used to but has better toy storage. Rowan's small bed seems a bit lost in the long, narrow front room but he'll eventually be joined there by his little brother or sister.

Marie and Michael arrived on Easter Sunday and picked up the pace with the sitting room getting a re-painting (Calico) and new curtains made for the sitting room and Sean and Finn's room. So we've had a real spring-clean and the house is just about ready to accommodaet the new arrival.

Frightening the children

Sharon may be incapacitated at the moment but it didn't stop her lying on the couch bellowing like a bull at the TV on Saturday as Ireland achieved only their second ever rugby Grand Slam. Finn was startled and most put out as Sharon yelled in his ear when Ronan O'Gara's drop goal clinched a last minute victory over Wales.

Rowan was similarly startled on Sunday when, ambling along Warrender Park Road looking everywhere but in front of him, he suddenly came face to face with a big black labrador. Credit to Rowan, he didn't suddenly scream or burst into tears but the double-double-take and look of sheer suprise that contorted his features was most amusing. Sean and I had a good laugh. "I got a fright from the dog," laughed Rowan afterwards as he destroyed the back seat of my car eating a sausage roll and chocolate croissant. Note: Rowan and flaky pastry in a confined space is a lethal combination, even with leather seats.

Sean usually goes grumpy when he gets a fright or, as was the case the other morning, screeches the house down. The cause on Monday morning was him getting his nails cut, an event that sounded so traumatic to the rest of us breakfasting in the kitchen I think Sharon must have tied him to a chair and thrown Pampered Chef knives at his extremeties from across the room.

The pleasant weather lasted into the weekend and enabled me to take the boys to Gifford in search of somewhere different to walk, picnic and play. Barring the Gore Glen outing at New Year this was the first official picnic of the year. We enjoyed our soup, sandwiches and snacks in the sun in Gifford then had a good stone-throwing session on a pebbly bank next to the Gifford Water and a play in the park. The day out was extended with a walk at Aberlady nature reserve, the highlight of which was the sighting of a number of toads along the way.

Getting the boys out and about is usually good fun and preferable to tackling any of the household chores. I had to empty and restore the big hall cupboard over Sunday and Monday as we were getting the gas meter replaced with an external meter at the side of the house. A new course for the gas supply was dug and laid across the front lawn (the shock of which prompted tears from Sean and a massive tantrum from Finn that anyone should dig up our grass in this way) but they seem to have made a neat enough job of it, provided they repair the hole in the path. Sharon got them to dig out the base of the stone bird bath that has long been an irritant in the centre of the front lawn.

Bat and bowl

Having to get up in the morning to the sound of screams is never the best way to start the day, I've found. At first it sounded like Sean had over-reacted to one of his bumps or bangs or Finn's unwelcome attentions but it became apparent that both were shouting in fear of their lives. I struggled to understand what they were saying but it sounded like something had flown past Sean on the landing. He thought it was a bird or a bat and that it had headed into the spare room.

With Sean and Finn grabbing each other for dear life by the bathroom door, I looked into the spare room. No sign of anything. Stepping in further, half-anticipating a frenzied attack from a savage wood pigeon, I noticed a small black, toad-like shape on the cream carpet over by the window.

Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I tried to focus on it as Sharon joined us. She confirmed that it was indeed a bat and requested a bowl to assist it in its departure from the house. Bravely she went into the room, closed the door and opened the windows to encourage the small frightened creature to vacate the premises. This it did without suddenly rising from the carpet, assuming a vampiresque form and falling upon Sharon's neck. Well, the sun was up and, given she is carrying our fourth child, Sharon's blood would not necessarily be the drink of choice for a discerning vampire.

Panic over, we went through the usual morning routine of getting the boys dressed, fed and off to school. We're curious as to how the bat got inside the house and I'll need to investigate the attic for evidence of a roost. Not that there is much we can do if there are bats in the building other than hope they don't re-enter the house and cause a stir like we had this morning. I remember a small bird getting into our bedroom when Lesley and I were young and that caused a fair bit of consternation as it flew round and round trying to get back out the window, so we'll excuse Finn and Sean for their screaming this morning.

Rowan had his eyes tested yesterday and appears to have a slight astigmatism in his left eye and is slightly long-sighted in that eye too. Nothing to bother about, however, so no glasses for the Roaster. Just as well, as he has no nose to support spectacles. Finn's glasses are forever sliding down his nose these days. Rowan is to go back in six months but he doesn't seem to have the problems that have bothered his brothers.

Meet the neighbours

I embarked on a rare burst of DIY last weekend, with minimal planning. Sharon has been fed up with the old nursery wardrobes serving as storage space in her office so I headed down to IKEA on the Friday night (9pm, best time to go) and bought some new freestanding shelves. On the Saturday I heaved the old wardrobes out to the garage, where they are now reconstructed for storage of some of the things we'd rather not have mouse droppings on! The new Ivar shelves were fairly easy to put together, despite one falling on my finger, and Sharon is now happier having clear sight of her spare stock and paperwork.

This weekend the housework was more festive: we bought the tree, placed it in the living room and then Sean and I decorated it. Finn was given the role of "admirer" by Sean. He had to sit on the couch and tell us if the tree was looking good. In typically contrary Finn fashion, he kept saying it didn't. Rowan had a great time running around the Klondyke Garden Centre when we were selecting the tree but he drove Sharon daft earlier in the day, running off round the supermarket. Finn and I took the bus into town to pick up Sharon's car and then have a wander round some shops. He was very impressed by the towering Christmas tree in Jenners and the toys in the basement but we left just as the afternoon crowds were starting to build up.

Talking of crowds, I popped into Woolworths on Thursday as it announced an "everything must go" sale as it heads for closure. The scavengers were out! To be honest, there are better pickings in the charity shops of Stockbridge than in the Raeburn Place Woollies. This has been its problem for the last decade or more: people of my age and older probably still think of it as a family department store when the reality is that its stock in recent years has been more comparable to the Poundstretcher end of the market. I always have fond memory of Woollies in Paisley and Largs. They were places we always headed for when shopping on Saturday shopping or at Largs on a day trip. I bought a good few Three Investigators books there, and Lego sets, and always loved the big fudge cubes in the Pik'n'Mix. It was one of those shops you always loved going to at Christmas time. Now it looks as though its doors may be closed before this Christmas, never mind next.

After seven years living in our street, yesterday we finally met a whole host of neighbours other than our directly adjacent ones. We were invited to the Powers' house for festive drinks and spent a very pleasant afternoon in the company of them, their children, and some of the neighbours from further up the road. Fiona and Neil's children are similar in age to Finn and Rowan and we often see Fiona down at the school. Aside from that we had a lazy Sunday, with Sharon really shattered from her long-running cough and us bother recovering from late nights over the weekend: me out on Friday at a charity karaoke (I didn't take the mic) at the Grange Club with a crowd from HR and Sharon out on Saturday at Howie's with the P2 mums.

Confined to barracks

Rowan is showing small signs of recovery but is still very hard work at the moment. He's great if he gets his way (aren't they all?) but throws massive tantrums if he doesn't get "racin car telly" (Cars DVD) or "pooh bayir telly" (Pooh video) or the food of his choice (anything sugary). Yesterday he managed to clamber out his cot as part of his strop at going down for his lunchtime nap. He thumped to the ground with predictable consequences. I gave up and let him join Finn and Sean for another half-hour's play, waddling around in his gro-bag, before recommencing the battle to put him to bed.

Sean and Finn weren't much better yesterday. The wild weather kept us indoors all weekend apart from a visit to the shops and swimming on Saturday. With Sharon at a PC Autumn Rally all day Sunday it made for hard work as the boys got increasingly bored and antagonistic with each other. Sean has gone daft for Connect 4 and kept bursting into tears if no-one would play him. At least he's stopped being a bad loser, mainly because he's winning half the time, regularly beating me.

Sharon's PC pal, Nikki Shepherd, her husband Simon and their children Georgia and Henry were staying with us Friday and Saturday night so at least we were able to socialise without leaving the house. There was no chance of getting out for a walk however. The roof blew off the wendy house, a bench was tipped up and poor Rowan was laid down in a puddle on his changing mat: it looks as though rain running past the boys' Velux window was being blown under the tiles and flashing and leaked through Rowan's ceiling.

Add to all this that neither Sharon nor I were feeling particularly fit and it made for a hard weekend. For the last few weeks I have had what has become an annual autumn event in recent years: rhinitis and my asthma flaring up. I don't know if it is tree pollen, dust in the house or what, but I wake in the morning feeling like my nose and throat have been dredged in plaster dust. It does little for my morning mood!

Domestic duties

We are considering whether or not to embark on another round of building work. We had plans approved in November 2005 but we only implemented a reduced scheme, namely to convert the attic. To extend to the side or rear feels like a bigger, more expensive piece of work, but we may as well test our appetite for it by revising the plans and getting a quote. Given the current dire economic forecast we may struggle to extend the mortgage at a reasonable rate, so any plans may have to remain a dream for now. Planning permission on the original scheme runs out on November 2010 so we have a couple of years yet.

Aside from potential big expense, the small expenses keep on coming. Our trusty Bosch washing machine broke down after 7 years service and the fan oven has been out of commission since early in the summer. The Bosch needed the brushes replaced to drive the motor to drive the belt to make the drum turn to wash and spin the clothes. The oven needed (another) new element. It's the second replacement since we bought the oven with Sharon's "Caeserean money" in 2003. Sharon treated me by getting the hedges cut when I was at work (one less autumn chore to do) and we had a long overdue carpet shampoo too, restoring the bedrooms and living room to something like their best. So shoes off the next time you visit!

Alas, Europe lost the Ryder Cup 16.5-11.5 to the USA at Valhalla. There was some great golf played, especially on the Saturday, but the Sunday was a bit of an anti-climax with Europe never really threatening to overturn the 9-7 deficit and the US team showing far more determination and ability than in their last two record thrashings. At least the competition is alive and kicking once more as Europe's five wins out of the last six, whilst always enjoyable, had rather taken the sting out of beating the US. Scott appeared for a brief supporting session on the Saturday before the requirements of fatherhood drew him home. The advantage of the venue being Stateside this year meant I could watch most of the matches with the boys in bed, making use of the V+ recording feature too.

I was in London for a couple of days this week, attending a Gartner Enterprise Architecture Summit at the plush Royal Lancaster Hotel by Hyde Park. We were staying at the Washington Mayfair and enjoyed a fine Spanish meal on the Monday night and a stroll to work across Hyde Park on the Tuesday. It's a nice part of the city but you'd need a couple of million just to buy a bedsit!

High winds

Calamity as a pane falls in from the roof of the conservatory during the night. Fortunately Pete is on hand to help as we somehow get it back in place despite high, gusting winds which threaten to blow Ian and the polycarbonate sheet into next door's garden.

Triumphal entry

At last, after two weeks of homelessness (thank you to Jeremy & Vanessa and Phil & John for the accommodation), we're in our new house in Fairmilehead! Get in touch if you don't know where we are and we'll send you the directions. There was a minimum of breakages and a flurry of unpacking and the house already looks in good order. Thanks to Tim and Tam the Removal Men of Clockwork Removals who did a sterling job.

Now we can lie in bed and look over to the Pentland Hills and wonder if we'll ever pay off the mortgage!

Leaving the cottage

We bid farewell to Duddingston Mills today. Sharon was a tad upset to leave her little cottage behind. It was less than two years ago that she was pleased as punch sitting in her newly-purchased cottage, but now she departs for pastures new, a marital home in the suburbs. Thanks to John, Iain and Alana for helping us ship the boxes to the van, and Scott and Carole for helping us unload into storage. We'll be staying at a couple of locations over the next fortnight while we're homeless: John and Phil's flat in Alva St and the Crowe's flat at Holy Corner.

Emptying Abbotsford

The flat in Abbotsford Crescent has been emptied (apart from the furniture that the next owner is thankfully taking off Ian's hands) at long last, just before the magnificent arched window in the stairway topples out. Workhorse John Hamilton did a fine job of ferrying boxes and bags down the stairs, ably supported by Iain and Alana as we relocated to storage down at Granton.