EDWARD, THE SEVENTH

So, there is a seventh Nibling. Edward his name is (though I think they want him to be called 'Ned') and he was born on November 3rd. I haven't said anything because he hasn't had a name for the first five days of his life, and I think that's rather important.

"I think I shall still call him Edward," said my Dad, floating the table cloth onto the table. "It's traditional, classic." My Mum rolled her eyes.

It's great news isn't it? The arrival of a brand new person, living and breathing and... experiencing this crazy world along with the rest of us. 

One night in my garden, he'll look up at the stars with me through my telescope and we'll chat about dust clouds and galaxies and pulsars and hydrostatic equilibrium. One day, he'll laugh like a shallow brook on a spring day, when I turn him upside down and threaten to put him in the wheelie bin. One day, he'll beam with pride as he waits so smartly at the front of a pretty church for the wife he has chosen. And one day he'll hold a baby of his own in his arms and marvel at that tiny miracle of life.

So, the important news then. He's five days old and he weighed 7lbs 4oz and he is as close to perfect as a person ever was. Everyone is safe and well and I think he's gone home, which is happy news for everyone involved, with the possible exception of my sister's neighbours.

It's a beautiful thing, life, isn't it?