Baby's life is in the balance

Baby Matthew is in the intensive ward at the hospital on a life support machine.

Today we found out that he has heart defects. He has immature, narrow arteries and two holes in his heart. He is to have a make-or-break operation in the morning. Jenna told me that she needs me to be with her so I am flying to Ireland early (very) in the morning.

Daughter Colleen is staying with Marie until her parents come to take her to their house. The children will go there too, and will be absent from school until I return. Such are the consequences of having an agoraphobic, monophobic wife.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

The dinner party

There's this TV programme called "Come Dine With Me" (in the UK - other countries have their national variations. Click on the link if you don't know what this programme is about, or you'd like to know what your country's version is called). Marie and I find it very enjoyable. My older daughters and their spouses also enjoy watching it (some more than others). Marie thought that it might be fun to have our own "Come Dine With Me" competition, and mentioned this to my sons-in-law. They were enthusiastic about the idea, and soon the whole family was involved.

After pairing now-single Colleen with family friend Guillaume, we had four couples and we decided to dine at each other's houses on consecutive Saturdays. Lots were drawn to determine the order in which we would be hosting the dinner parties. Marie and I were to be the first hosts. Diners would give each of the host couples marks (out of 10) and the winning couple would get a meal at a posh restaurant paid for by the losers. To make sure that everyone had an even chance, everyone would post their menus on Facebook by 9 p.m. last Wednesday, and all meals had to be totally home cooked.

Thus on Saturday last, Marie and I gave care of Joseph and Orla to our baby sitter while we prepared the meal. Marie had selected the starter and dessert, and I had selected the main course.

This was our menu -

Bruschetta with salad garnish

Moroccan spiced roasted Exmoor lamb shanks
Maris Piper potatoes and sweet potatoes
Selection of vegetables

Individual strawberry or banana pavlova

Cheese tray
Selection of biscuits

Tea or coffee
Selection of chocolates

By lunch time on Saturday, Marie had cooked the meringues for the pavlovas. They looked perfect.

I had marinaded the lamb shanks all night in my specially prepared, 12 spice, red wine marinade. I individually wrapped the lamb shanks in tin foil and put them in the oven, five hours before they were required. I cubed the potatoes, coated them in olive oil and spices and put them in the oven just two hours before required. The tomato-based sauce was prepared and cooked and the vegetables - baby carrots, miniature courgettes, baby corn and asparagus tips - were ready for their few minutes in the steamer, just prior to serving.

Preparations complete, and with Marie busy creating her bruschettas, I turned my attentions to getting the dining room ready. With just one hour to go, I thought I noticed the faint smell of burning. Marie was changing into her evening wear, so I quickly checked the cooker.

Shit!

Someone had turned the oven up to 250º! (Probably Orla, when the babysitter wasn't looking.)

I took out the somewhat charred potatoes and the tray of lamb shanks. Although a little burned, the potatoes still tasted good. Since the lamb shanks were wrapped in tin foil, it was impossible to know whether or not they had been incinerated. There wasn't enough time to prepare anything else, so I decided to take a chance and serve them as planned.

The guests arrived bearing gifts of fine wine and were soon sampling the culinary efforts of Marie and myself. Marie's bruschettas were superb and she was duly complimented. The lamb shanks, when unwrapped, turned out to be crisp on the outside, but very tender, succulent and aromatic on the inside. The marinade had done its job superbly. The potatoes were equally delicious despite their charred appearance. The main course had almost turned out the way I had hoped. Later, the meringues Marie had prepared were absolutely perfect and her pavlovas were a big hit.

After dinner, our guests requested that I play the piano for them. I was able to play some of their favourite tunes and I remembered some popular French melodies which greatly pleased Guillaume. After much wine consumption, festivities ceased around 2 a.m.

Our dinner party had been a great success. We retired, happy tired, looking forward to seeing what the other dinner parties will have to offer.

And Marie's anxiety was absent all day long.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Did you know that Tesco sells saffron for almost £6,000 per kilo!!? (That's about $4.300 per pound.) You knew that? Well, it was quite a surprise for me.

My autistic son - Back in the saddle again

Colm has had many riding lessons, but few as important as yesterday's.

And this is why...

Our local branch of the Riding for the Disabled Association provides riding lessons during school term time. This means that during the summer, it is closed for lessons for 5 weeks.

Five weeks is an eternity to Colm, if it means 5 weeks without riding. So we looked around for somewhere else to go during the summer - somewhere that would be sympathetic to Colm's peculiar needs. We found such a place - or so we thought - near Ilminster, thus not far from where Colm lives.

Colm was well pleased with his new riding school and, despite all the staff and all the horses being new to him, adjusted extremely well. The first weeks were very enjoyable, but then there came a point where the inexperience of trainer and horse of having pupils like Colm began to show. The owner of the school was taking a lesson with Colm and moving things a bit too fast... She tried to get Colm to do a small jump while cantering. Colm looked uneasy and tried to object, but she ordered him to continue. His lack of confidence caused him to let the reigns go loose. The lack of direction caused the horse to refuse the jump. Colm went sailing over the horse's head, landing heavily on his side.

Colm got to his feet quickly, but looked shaken and very distressed.

"My arm," he said to the trainer.

"It's only a bad bump," said the trainer. "Come up here and we'll get you on the horse again."

I knew from Colm's demeanour that it was more than a bad bump, and went over to the trainer to tell her so. She argued with me and wanted Colm to continue with his lesson, but I wasn't having any of it. I took Colm to the car and then speedily to the hospital.

An x-ray proved that my suspicion had been well founded. Colm had broken his wrist. An hour or so later he was wearing a rather large plaster. Throughout the 3 hours we had been at the hospital, Colm had been the model patient. He was compliant in every respect.

His first plaster was rather heavy, made him very itchy and became quite tight, which affected Colm's disposition. He became a more than a little tetchy, so it was a relief when, after x-rays showed that all was as well as could be hoped for, this was replaced by a smaller, lighter one. The healing process continued and last week the plaster was declared redundant and removed. Colm's wrist is as good as new.

This week Colm went back to the RDA centre. His delight at returning there - the moment he had been anticipating for all those weeks - was obvious for all to see.

Apart from some issues arising from his broken wrist, Colm's life continues to improve. He has been 2 years at his current address, and he is now in his most settled period since leaving home 7 years ago. The 3 sisters who live in Taunton take him out regularly and he visits Marie and me from time to time. He seems very satisfied with this arrangement, and now when he comes to our house for dinner, is ready to leave after a couple of hours. Progress indeed.

Oh yes - the other riding school - Colm won't be going back there!