Yesterday child number one had two friends from our former home to visit and stay the night. They are a good set of boys, and so it was no hassle to have them here.

Having picked them up and brought them here, they soon polished off some lunch and headed into the city for a wander. It’s good to see them develop the independence that allows them space for themselves. Child number one thought it was good to show them where one of his parents worked, and so they visited the church by themselves, and he even had the courage to introduce himself as to date those around the church on a day to day basis haven’t had much contact with either child.

Returning home, our guests said how much they had liked the city. It wasn’t as busy as the home city, and more easily negotiated.

There was a small wager over how long they might stay up for the night, but they were eventually persuaded that midnight was late enough to sit in the conservatory. There was chatting, but they tell me that they finally gave in at around 1.30am and went to sleep.

I know I was still reading the trashy novel that I’m trying to read at 1am, but it would appear that I must have fallen asleep before them.

That has come as a surprise to me, as for a number of weeks I have not been sleeping well. Instead it has been about 2am before I’ve finally slept and then I’ve been waking at 6.30am. For someone who enjoys sleep and the cosiness of being curled up under a duvet, this has seemed a strange period to experience.

It hasn’t just been my sleep that has been affected, as I’ve found concentrating on things I enjoy quite hard. I’ve resorted to a trashy novel or magazine to read at night as if I can’t remember what was said then it doesn’t particularly matter. However I have a pile of books I know I will enjoy growing beside my bed, and I’m disappointed not to lose myself in another world or theology. There is also a piece of cross-stitch waiting for the name of my latest nephew to be added, but that too requires a brain to design, count and then transfer in thread and cloth.

Perhaps the best thing about having these young friends stay, was to have a mum – a friend- come and collect them, and sit and chat and remind me that life changes bring restlessness to our existence in many ways.