Are We Old?

My friend Kate is about 8.75 months pregnant. Pretty soon she'll either explode or be a mum, and I think she would be happy either way. It's a big thing - a Pennine bulge out front and a life changing moment. We're grown up. It's scary, in a driving fast kind of way.

Lots of new things in the last two or three months. One minute you're deaf to the world, next minute you're building beds for children and preparing to baby sit.

Then maybe she'll be able to go out again. She's the lifeblood of the meeting up scene, a natural organiser with an eye for trendy bars. I need that. I have other friends in London, but can't for the life of me remember where they live.

So sooner or later her blog will stop and she'll go to a bleached place where they'll tell her to breathe, push, stop breathing, and pull. 'Pull' being the last word any pending mother wants to here, when the staff sees something they don’t like, and think best that it turns back.