No vacancies

So there I was yesterday pruning my gazaelias in the far corner of the greenhouse when I was interrupted by not one but two new arrivals. And where it has been more like a frat house in here recently with Jack, George, Theo and me all shootin the breeze, chewing the fat and bangin out some tunes these were not normal arrivals. These were ladies, the fairer sex, the conchicas…. Yes so the girls are taking over the asylum. Harriet and Darcy have arrived and welcome they are although one of them and I don’t know which one – they all look the same to me – looks a bit of a lard arse as she was born at 33weeks and although I am 32 weeks or in old money 6 weeks old today – yes happy birthday to me – I am not the same as if I’d have been born at 32 weeks if you get my gist. All the wonders of medical marvelry cannot replicate what a lovely bag of amniotic fluid and me floating around happy as larry can do – so in a way I’m already playing catch up a bit and apparently will do so until…well no-one really knows but ‘they say’ it’ll probably take a few years – although I think that’s bollocks and I’ll be playing the piano before my first birthday. Well at least as well as Dad can play. And he’s useless so shouldn’t be that hard.