First fruit

First ripe tomatoes. Well, nearly ripe. From the state of the plant they are on this will probably be the only fruit on it!

Lots of admin sorting today, and putting an endless stream of talking books into iTunes for TallGirl as her CD player is broken. She, meanwhile, spent the whole afternoon lying in front of a 24 hour French news channel waiting for a baby to be born. It was, to me, mildly amusing to see this politically aware almost teenager goggle eyed at a baby she'll never meet who is part of a system she will (I am sure) come to despise. There were constant updates through the day: while I sewed in the kitchen she would come running through "It's coming really really soon - the telly says!!!!" At one point CarbBoy, infected with his sister's enthusiasm for the baby wait, ran into the kitchen shouting "Three minutes! It's coming in three minutes!"*

The kids were, therefore, allowed to stay up until it was actually announced - which was conveniently just at the limit for them staying up. However, whilst I was amused by their interest, Mr B was less so. In fact, he blames me for this turn of events, which he sees as me infecting them with some sort of royalist sentiments. Sigh. I did not have the energy to explain my views to him yet again, so just let it lie. TallGirl's interest can, I think, be explained by her interest in anything 'romantic'. I don't mean boyfriends and stuff, but rather a wider definition which includes Camelot, knights, fairy stories, etc. Everyone needs some romance in their life from time to time. A point I sensibly didn't make to Mr B.

According to my French gardening book, another English name for tomatoes is 'love apples'. Perhaps I should give these to Mr B tomorrow as a peace offering?

*The odd thing is that that was said approximately when the baby was actually born, though we didn't know that for a while.