Happy Halloween

Halloween has become huge in Britain. I'm not sure if it's this year in particular, or if it's grown in prominence in the years since we've been away, but Halloween costumes and paraphernalia have filled supermarket shelves for weeks. Tesco devoted two whole aisles to Halloween make up, outfits, treats, tricks and more. Maria and Lol have a tradition of throwing Halloween parties, and this year was bigger than ever. They converted their basement into a chilling dungeon disco complete with headless babies and skulls. Upstairs a mechnical witch burst into life at the front door to greet visitors, a bubbling broth of punch smoked in the kitchen and in the toilet a wall-mounted monster spoke to you when you went near the loo. About 50 people came and everyone made a massive effort with their costumes. Lol was a vampire, Maria was Poison Ivy and Jack and Rob were mummies. Rob's costume took a while to assemble and was made from several loo rolls, badages and masking tape. I spent the afternoon sewing long black socks stuffed with newspaper to a black top to become a spider before facepainting Rob and the girls, Scarlett as a devil and Flo, a witch. Dad had THE most frightening mask ever, while Alexandra made a very pretty devil queen. Others came as Carrie, extras from the Thriller video, a ghostly priest and Death ("there's a little man form the village. Something about the reaping").  After bowls of chilli, care of Dad, and fireworks in the garden, care of Lol, we retired to the dungeon to cut some serious Halloween rug.

A visit from Jack Frost

We had our first proper cold weather last week. After a lovely Summer, the warm weather has continued all through Autumn. Last week we woke to our first frost, in, ooh about 13 years, leaving a lovely icing sugar effect on the lawn. I was thrilled because it meant I had to go out and buy a winter coat, my first one, in about ooh 15 years. It's black and padded with lots of zips and poppers to keep the cold out. Rob found the suitcase with our ski gear in and retrieved hats and gloves not worn since our last ski trip.

 We had a lovely weekend. On Friday night we ended up at the Lary Spudkins for an impromptu dinner, semi celebrating (but not wanting to jinx) a very successful job interview I'd had earlier in the day in Lewes.  Lewes was quite something and it would be great to work there. It is an ancient town with beautiful castle and lots of winding lanes lined with books shops and great food and craft shops. Watch this space re the job.

On Saturday Ed, Cass and the kids came up by train from Brighton and after a walk along the beach and through the Old Town we had mushroom risotto for lunch while the kids watched their new favourite film on DVD, Nim's Island.  Rob is meant to work on Sundays and, until his training in Eastbourne finishes, he's gone for most of the day. We drove him to the pick up point to discover he'd been told the wrong time and that the bus had left without him. Cheers all round as it meant he could spend the day with us. We drove a few miles east of Hastings to the beautiful village of Winchelsea. It has a stunning church, partly in ruins, and  happened upon Spike Milligan's grave and headstone there, famous for its gaelic translation of the phrase "I told you I was ill." We had a lovely pub lunch and have decided to come back here for Bonfire Night.  We have been swept up with X Factor fever that keeps all right thinking folk on their couches every Saturday and Sunday night. My favourite is 50-year-old Mary, a Tesco cashier from Dublin. We are also hooked on Downton Abbey, the latest costume drama on Sunday nights starring Maggie Smith. It's bonnets at 50 paces and has lots of below stairs action too.
 I fell under the curse of Dehli belly on Sunday night and Rob had to take yesterday off work to look after the girls (who are on half term) and I. I spent most of the day in bed suffering waves of chills and fever and extreme tiredness. Eventually I dragged myself out of bed and demanded to be helped into my wellies and taken to Pett Level for some fresh air and a bit of a walk. I went back to bed after we got back, rising briefly to watch University Challenge which included a cross dressing student from St Andrew's University. How times have changed.

Finally, here's a shot I took this morning from our bedroom of a lovely sunrise coming over the West Hill.

The Mckendrys cometh

An absolutely tip top weekend with the McKendrys that sent me into quiet tearful episodes behind everybody's back because it was the closest thing to bliss.  They arrived from Scotland (via Ashtead and Brighton) on Thursday morning. With Scarlett in school, Rob, Flo and I took them on a walk down to the seafront (to check out the blackened pier) and along to the Old Town where we had a lovely lunch and stroll into each and every great shop. On Friday we went to Battle to do the brilliant audio tour walk around the grounds of Battle Abbey, location of the Battle of Hastings, followed by a terrific lunch at the Tudor cafe next door. While Fraser, Moira, Rob and I caught up and laughed as if we were childless, Flo and Lily entertained themselves beautifully in front of a huge open fire with colouring things. Friday night was spent at Maria and Lol's imbibing large quantities of shellfish, wine and hilarious storytelling in equal measure. A night to remember, or not, depending on hangovers the next day. On Saturday, with Scarlett back part of the throng, we hit St Helen's Woods for a fantastic, super muddy walk.  We then drove on to Pett Level for a superb, freshly cooked, fish and chip lunch at the beach club, followed by a hilarious long walk along the beach at low tide. Hilarious because the children and I were the only ones in wellies, (while M&F& R sported variations on trainers) and we were able to go on a puddle and mud-tastic adventure including moments in terrifying quicksand and black mud that had us yanking each other's feet free. I can't remember the last time I saw the girls happier - Lily is very much their special friend. After a lazy early evening of boot cleaning and newspaper reading, we stuffed our faces with Rob's fish pie (Rob did all the cooking this weekend), and popped small children into bed, before collapsing in front of X Factor (on a Saturday night - surely a confirmation of our middle age), jeering, supporting and generally talking all the way through the acts, depending on who we liked. Within hours of M,F and L's departure this morning, we were welcoming Dad and Alexandra for  a roast chicken lunch to celebrate the 27th anniversary of my Dad's arrival at Everest Base Camp. We are now officially knackered and our door is closed until next weekend.

Wellies on

Another great week for discovering new things in and around Hastings.  On Friday Rob, Flo and I went to the nearby St Helen's Woods. They are lovely woods full of squirrels and birds with great walking trails, bbq spots and ponds. What amazed us was that they are relatively close to the centre of Hastings but because they are ringed by residential roads, you would never know they were there and you feel as if you are in the country. After a temporary refusal to proceed by Flo - it was hot and she was tired - we progressed passed fields of horses, along a lovely lane next to a huge pond with ducks and other birdlife and by a field with a pair of Shetland ponies. After our walk we went back to the seafront so Rob could see the pier. Walking along the prom I spotted this lovely old weather station that's been cared for and used to record Hastings weather for over 100 years. I love the symbols to denote the weather for the day and the records of weather highs and lows over the years, many of which sharply contrast with weather events we have experienced in Australia.

This morning we all went to Crowhurst, a village right on the edge of Hastings to have a try out at a community agriculture project I read about. Basically, you pay less than a quid a week and in return for 4 hours work a month, you receive a big box of produce every time you go. We helped clear a patch of  old sweetcorn plants, dug up swedes and parnips, collected potatoes and helped divide it all up between the 10 or so helpers there. It's all done on a piece of land, donated by the local farmer, and the range of produce they are growing is huge. The people we met were friendly, hard-working and enthusiastic, but there was a lovely informality to it. You turn up when you can and check a white board in the greenhouse to see what needs doing, then you just muck in. My new wellies got a fantastic christening and the girls loved seeing the chickens, being chased by the geese (you should have heard us scream) and fighting over who was going to push the wheelbarrow. As we were only there to see if it's what we would like to be involved in (we would), and only helped for an hour or so, (during which time Rob managed to hurt his back again)  we were amazed to be included in the share of the harvest and came home with a huge pumpkin and a bag of baby carrots, potatoes, garlic, onions, a swede, parnips, beans and apples.

Hastings Pier destroyed by fire

It was only last month I posted a photo I'd taken on the beach here of Hastings Pier. This morning we awoke to what I thought was mist all down the valley. It was in fact the massive plumes of smoke coming from the pier, set alight by arsonists in the early hours of this morning. The smell was reminiscent of Sydney during bush fire season and I had to tell the girls to shut the windows to keep it out of the house. It's a real shame that something that has stood for more than 100 years is gone in a few hours. It didn't really mean much to us newcomers,  but listening to the local people I heard talking on the radio this morning, people in Hastings had a genuine affection for it. It was built in 1872 and started out at 910 feet long, perfect for Victorians who loved to promenade. It was well known in the 1960s as a venue for big bands including  The Rolling Stones, the Who and Jimi Hendrix. Scarlett's teacher Mrs davidson was almost in tears this morning recalling her youth watching bands play there.  The local council closed it in 2006, fearful it had become dangerous and in need of serious repair, and was actively involved in buying it back from its Panamanian owners and applying for lottery funding after a report revealed 3 million quid would be enough to save it. Not now.  I took the girls down to the beach after school this afternoon in  the rain to see what's left and took these pictures.

Autumn cometh

Autumn is here. As well as top craft opportunities, thanks to pots of glue and loads of lovely red, orange and yellow leaves littering the park, the weather has turned much cooler (though not enough for my liking), we have had rain, sideways and diagonal, and have even had the heating on. Disappointingly, after having our chimney swept (by a grown man, rather than by Flo tied to a long broom) we discovered the internal bricks are buggered and we need to get a chimney liner and wood burning stove if we want any fires this winter that won't burn the house down. Like all mainatianance you can't do yourself, this is not a cheap affair. We decided we might need to give it a miss until we are earning a bit of dosh, but then today we went to a lovely pub in Brighton (Hove, actually) with an open fire and we straight away thought 'sod that- we really want a real fire.' On Friday, Rob, Flo and drove to Pett Level, a tiny seaside village with a pub and a post office. We went there to perve at The Big White House, a modern cubist building, designed and built by the bloke that managed the Pet Shop Boys. It's relevant because my friend Luke is mates with the guys that live there and stayed there last summer on a trip from Sydney to the UK.  Notably he described staying in the guest room and there being an Andy Warhol over the bed. What's interesting about this house is that almost every other house in Pett Level is a pretty straight forward beach house whereas their house is quite the stand out. The houses sit lower than the beachfront walkway, that runs along the back of the homes between them and the channel, allowing maximum sticky beaking potential. Once we'd finished having a good old nose in all the houses, we took ourselves to the northern end of the beach to a stunning new build that resembles the sort of house that would not look out of place on the shore of Sydney Harbour. While the sun shone, and the sea hinted at the blue beneath the brown, we could almost have been in Australia. On Saturday the wind whipped around the house  and we wrapped ourselves up in fleeces and hats and headed to the country park for a walk along the cliffs, picking blackberries and avoiding dog poo. I love being blown about a bit by the wind and it was a lovely 2 hours walking and talking with the girls. Having said that Flo has developed a new habit of talking and talking and talking until we have to ask her to just stop! On Saturday night the Lary Spudkins arrived for a dinner of roast chicken with caramelised roast carrots and cheesy peas. My Donna Hay dessert chocolate pots were dry and much less molten than the photo in the book indicated. I have to say this is another DH recipe that has not hit the mark. I find I often have to add or take away ingredients to make them work. It was hard to know what our guests thought as their mouths were so devoid of saliva it was hard to understand their  speech. I understood Rob's spoon banging on his plate to mean "Is there any cream?' and Lol's desperate pointing to his throat to mean "some water would be nice about now." Enough said. Today the sun shone but as we drove west to Brighton the rain started to fall, and by the time we arrived in Hove (actually) to meet up with Sydney pals Gav and Bev (here on hols) it was chucking it down. Thank goodness my gammy knee had me pulling out of the 10k run in Brighton today - we saw the dregs hobbling along in the rain and I felt certain our lunch, at the newly done up Connaught pub, was going to be much more rewarding.  We had a fantastic lunch, with the kids on one table and the grown ups on another, catching up on news from the inner west and  meeting Gav's sister Helen and her family. Brilliant.  It  almost made me wish we were heading back to Sydney. Almost.