I bought this book because I liked the front cover, which features that map of the old Kingdom of Hungary, incorporating Croatia, Slovakia, Transylvania and all the other bits of neighbouring countries which some Hungarians still apparently consider to be Hungarian. It always chills me a little bit, and acts as a reminder that there is unfinished business in that part of the world. It's the memoirs of a Hungarian Count who was a bitpart player in European diplomacy in the aftermath of the First World War, and saw the Habsburg world he knew collapse. He's well-known as the author of a trilogy set in the same period, although in my ignorance I'd never heard of them. I've asked Cathy if they are worth reading.
It's been a long time since I last wrote, and I'm conscious that I've recorded very little of Libby's first year in comparison to Fred's, so hopefully I'll be able to keep it up this time. Libby stood up unaided and took her first steps on Saturday, in the glamorous surroundings of the Café at Woking Leisure Centre. She's giving Helen a hard time at the moment, often waking up in the night and taking hours to settle. Helen isn't ready to let Libby learn to get herself to sleep yet, so she has to hold her. I look after Freddie's bedtime, which now consists of a story and a lullaby. The lullaby comes from a lyric sheet I put together which contains Lloyd Cole, Belle & Sebastian, Madness, Simon & Garfunkel, the Kinks, Emily Barker. Right now my favourite is Bright Phoebus, which Fred joins in on, 'For the very first time'. Up until recently, Fred had a choice of two lullabies, as there are so few songs I both know the words to and can reach the required notes! The choice was either The Bony King of Nowhere from Bagpuss or the wonderful One Spring Morning. Fred now knows the words to both, and after so much practice I'm very nearly in tune. My version of 'The Only Living Boy in New York' however, is hideous
