'So how was your weekend?' I hear you cry. Well.
It all started on Wednesday (yes, I know. Bear with me). I popped over the road to our friend and neighbour as Daughter wanted to play with the neigbour's daughter. T answered the door in a spangly mauve satin dress. I said 'Love the dress' and she said 'Yes it's for when we all go out on Friday night'.
So. Come Friday night and we all deposit the kids with various grandparents and hit the town (well, village really). T (of the new dress) had invited along another pair of parents from school as a sort of friendly, getting to know you gesture. We'd been out a couple of hours when all the ladies disappeared to the loos (is this genetically programmed, or what?). The next thing, news filters out that the wife half of the new couple has been rather sick. Over the spangly dress. All down the front of the spangly dress.
She was mortified, bless her, and her husband had to take her home after tearful apologies (apparently, she'd only had three glasses of wine - must have been Californian
T meanwhile gamely cleaned herself up and wiped the dress down, and we carried on to another bar. But we did find it was wiser not to stand downwind of her for the rest of the night.
J was particularly pleased, as it's usually him who causes a drama when we go out. Once he started eating someone else's food in a restaurant; another time he just went walkabout and we didn't find him till the next morning. Wife and I went for a late night curry, and the hottest Jalfrezi I have ever had! I must have drunk a gallon of lassi to cool my mouth.
I made the mistake of giving in to another neighbour's ginger tom when he doorstepped us on our return home. And paid for it by being woken at 4am to see a huge pair of saucer eyes, and the loudest MIAOW ever directed straight at me. He couldn't make up his mind whether he wanted to go out or not, but standing naked at the back door, with a chill wind shrivelling my bits, I nudged the cat out with my toe and went back to bed.
Saturday morning is traditionally 'tidy the house, mow the lawns, etc' time. So, after a little lie-in, with Haydn string quartets gently floating up from downstairs, we blitzed the place. I ended up on my hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor, but it did gleam afterwards. The girls had a picnic in the garden, among the crabapple trees and the narcissi. Around the pond, the marsh marigolds, fritillaries and cowslips are in full bloom, and tiny tadpoles are hiding under the emerging lily pads.
Sunday was gorgeous. We went to Hardwick Hall, an Elizabethan mansion completed in 1597. We've been many times, and love the gardens there. Daughter can run, cartwheel, and do handstands while we just laze in the sun. I had to set her tasks to keep her amused. So she was off running to various trees, and having to think of a single word to describe each one.
The hall was built for Bess of Hardwick, the Dowager Countess of Shrewsbury. She was an extraordinary woman, in a dangerous time, who played the field of power politics well, marrying four times and gaining power and status with each marriage. She fostered an aristocratic dynasty that still exists today, not least the Dukes of Devonshire, and their spectacular Chatsworth estates. For many years, she was the guardian of the ill-fated Mary, Queen of Scots.
The gardens are beautiful too. Orchards full of daffodils and fritillaries. The borders packed with tulips, beginning to come to life, the huge and beautifully fragrant herb garden. Perfect for a lazy Sunday afternoon. Later, I planted out herbs and wildflowers in a couple of troughs. So we'll have basil, sorrel and sage, lemon balm, field poppies and cranesbill this summer.
And to complete the weekend? Manchester City 4-2 West Bromwich Albion. YES!
It all started on Wednesday (yes, I know. Bear with me). I popped over the road to our friend and neighbour as Daughter wanted to play with the neigbour's daughter. T answered the door in a spangly mauve satin dress. I said 'Love the dress' and she said 'Yes it's for when we all go out on Friday night'.
So. Come Friday night and we all deposit the kids with various grandparents and hit the town (well, village really). T (of the new dress) had invited along another pair of parents from school as a sort of friendly, getting to know you gesture. We'd been out a couple of hours when all the ladies disappeared to the loos (is this genetically programmed, or what?). The next thing, news filters out that the wife half of the new couple has been rather sick. Over the spangly dress. All down the front of the spangly dress.
She was mortified, bless her, and her husband had to take her home after tearful apologies (apparently, she'd only had three glasses of wine - must have been Californian
T meanwhile gamely cleaned herself up and wiped the dress down, and we carried on to another bar. But we did find it was wiser not to stand downwind of her for the rest of the night.
J was particularly pleased, as it's usually him who causes a drama when we go out. Once he started eating someone else's food in a restaurant; another time he just went walkabout and we didn't find him till the next morning. Wife and I went for a late night curry, and the hottest Jalfrezi I have ever had! I must have drunk a gallon of lassi to cool my mouth.
I made the mistake of giving in to another neighbour's ginger tom when he doorstepped us on our return home. And paid for it by being woken at 4am to see a huge pair of saucer eyes, and the loudest MIAOW ever directed straight at me. He couldn't make up his mind whether he wanted to go out or not, but standing naked at the back door, with a chill wind shrivelling my bits, I nudged the cat out with my toe and went back to bed.
Saturday morning is traditionally 'tidy the house, mow the lawns, etc' time. So, after a little lie-in, with Haydn string quartets gently floating up from downstairs, we blitzed the place. I ended up on my hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor, but it did gleam afterwards. The girls had a picnic in the garden, among the crabapple trees and the narcissi. Around the pond, the marsh marigolds, fritillaries and cowslips are in full bloom, and tiny tadpoles are hiding under the emerging lily pads.
Sunday was gorgeous. We went to Hardwick Hall, an Elizabethan mansion completed in 1597. We've been many times, and love the gardens there. Daughter can run, cartwheel, and do handstands while we just laze in the sun. I had to set her tasks to keep her amused. So she was off running to various trees, and having to think of a single word to describe each one.
The hall was built for Bess of Hardwick, the Dowager Countess of Shrewsbury. She was an extraordinary woman, in a dangerous time, who played the field of power politics well, marrying four times and gaining power and status with each marriage. She fostered an aristocratic dynasty that still exists today, not least the Dukes of Devonshire, and their spectacular Chatsworth estates. For many years, she was the guardian of the ill-fated Mary, Queen of Scots.
The gardens are beautiful too. Orchards full of daffodils and fritillaries. The borders packed with tulips, beginning to come to life, the huge and beautifully fragrant herb garden. Perfect for a lazy Sunday afternoon. Later, I planted out herbs and wildflowers in a couple of troughs. So we'll have basil, sorrel and sage, lemon balm, field poppies and cranesbill this summer.
And to complete the weekend? Manchester City 4-2 West Bromwich Albion. YES!
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"p.s. love Monet too. I was blown away as a teen in Paris by the huge waterlily canvases in the Orangerie."
and i am officially 100 percent JEALOUS!!!!!! hahahahaha One day I will make it there. Its my ultimate dream to go to the Louvre. Although when ya live on disability and have surgery every other month... the chances of ever getting there are slim to none. I would SO pack up and just live on the streets there if I could go to that damn museum once a week. lol