Yesterday was notable, not just because of the amazing and truly emotional scenes of the rescue of the miners in Chile but because of another issue in the Morris family (pun intended).
When the phone rang, early yesterday morning, I knew it wasn't Jack with bird news because it was still dark. It had to be Simon asking us to come and look after Sam while Rocio, with Simon somewhere around, produced Sam's new brother. Apart from the A2 at Bean (accident) and a 45 minutes queue for Blackwall Tunnel all went smoothly and we arrived in Walthamstow at 8.15 a.m. Grandson no 6 (name not yet decided) arrived at 10.05 in Whips Cross hospital.
Sam enjoyed meeting his new brother and tried to interest him in the little squeaky giraffe and lamb that goes "Boing" when you drop it. I guess it's a bit early, but time flies by nowadays (it's old age you know) and it won't be long before they'll be sharing, or otherwise, lots of toys.
Nanny Pam, as usual looks very much at home with a baby in her arms. Six grandsons, with Cam, the oldest at 14 years old, the day after tomorrow (or tomorrow if he's reading this in Australia), there's still a chance of a five-a-side footfall team, with a sub in about 14 years time. None of our daughters-in-law are keen to go for the full 11 a side team.