Thursday night:This week B1 and B2 attended a four day music camp where they met lots of great kids, learnt some amazing music and got to play in an orchestra. It involved 50 cent cones on the way home, getting to bed at 10pm on a school night and a sluggish start to Friday.
Friday: NOBODY gets to stay home on the last day of school. Not even if you have broken your arm. You need to go and get it signed- don't you! On the way back from drop off, the Divine Miss M and I chat to the lovely ladies down the road while they walk their horses, Benji and Wes. Horses wondering around the streets have always been one of my favourite reasons for living in this neck of the woods.
We arrive home to find the lairy godmother from over the road waiting with truss tomatoes and Castello cheese. She makes yummy salmon crackers and mugs of Lady Grey tea. How reviving. How civilised.
After she leaves we visit Nanna and Grandad and then pop in on Ron and Brian's boutique de bric-a-brac.
Not a lot of booty today but Miss M's cutlery bribe is too good for the sandpit and is snaffled for the kitchen. We also got some Ikea toddler cutlery, a pretty vintage pink flowery sheet and and inflatable roll about ball thing. I love these cup scoops for the flour and sugar canisters. The spatula is something I've been after for a long time. Remember how nannas always had a row of these utensils hanging in the kitchen, often with a Spanish influence?
These spatulas are the BEST things for pikelets. I must make some immediately to try it and have a childhood flashback...
...all ready to fend of the trampling, exhausted, chlorinated childerbeast as they stampede the kitchen.
You could lose a hand in there if you weren't careful! Did I mention that somebody fell off their modded bike on Thursday. The big fella had a big night waiting with the little fella for 4 hours at the Royal Children's Hospital.
Dad's home so it is time for chook wrangling. Venus and Serena have been next door sulking all day. Wings must be clipped, I'm afraid.
"I feel naked, Serena. Carole would never have treated us in this appalling fashion."
"Don't dwell on it, Venus. As soon as they grow back we will soar like magpies again."
"Not really, Serena."
"I can dream, Venus!"
Mother is released into the wild for dinner with women folk. The characteristic plumage of the released mother often involves wearing Anna Bartlett clothes and accessories.
"My come too?"
"Not on your adorable nelly, kid!"