Todo me parece bonito

Every summer, they throw a little fete at the Rosie Maternity ward. We discovered this a year ago, because the party kicked off while Azure was checking into the hospital. I was keen to spend a few pounds on the Tombola that day, mostly because I didn’t know what a Tombola was, and partly because proceeds went to support the Special Care Baby unit. (That had sounded like a good enough cause, then. Now we know it is.)

The ‘Premrose Fete’ is a tiny affair, really, but with a huge heart. You can toss coins at a litre of whisky, six goes a pound, nearest coin wins. Or you can throw wet sponges at one of the doctors volunteering to be a target. Better still, there’s a coffee table where you can buy a whole cake for four pounds, and right behind it you’ll find a few old ladies sitting around and pretending (poorly, at that) to be uninterested in just which of their cakes you’re eyeing. There’s a BBQ, of course, plus a little tent selling Pimm’s, and a Lucky Dip with prizes for children and the Tambola for the adults.

Anyhow, Emelyn turns 1 this week. And so it came to mind that maybe it was time for us to go back to the little party, too.

Suffice to say that Azure’s coin landed close enough to the whisky bottle that they took down her name, Jami won herself a packet of Christmas incense at the Tombola, and I bought an ‘Irish Brack loaf’ from a very pleased old lady. Then there were some steel drum players, who pretty much appeared from nowhere, and Emelyn smiled and started to clap.

My thoughts exactly, kiddo.

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