Full moon

The most beautiful full moon hovered over Hastings this week, sending the local residents even more insane than usual. For example, some bright spark decided to start a fire at the back of the castle, the most visible building in the town. I was on the phone to Maria and in front of my eyes thick, black, smoke started billowing  accompanied by high orange flames. I quickly hung up and called 999, something I have never done before (not on purpose anyway) and which I found rather thrilling. Luckily it wasn't the castle structure itself burning, which was a relief. After losing the pier last year, things would be pretty grim if one of the main reasons tourists come here was also destroyed.

 On Friday, after Scarlett's assembly, we drove straight up to Suffolk to see Rick and Justin for the weekend. As ever the welcome was warm, and it was lovely to be in their cosy cottage in winter, with the curtains drawn and the fire blazing. We normally visit in summer and the difference to their garden and the surrounding countryside was amazing. Their garden, a vertible supermarket produce section during the warmer months, had completely died back and we were able to see through their back hedgerow straight into the field behind.  Friday night Rick made meatballs and spaghetti from scratch and we sat up for ages catching up and checking the gin has gone past its expiry date. On Saturday morning after a huge breakfast and two Panadol each, we drove to Justin's wood for a walk. We had to leave the cars at the bottom of the field as the day before Justin's car had got stuck in the Somme-like mud and had to be towed out with the tractor. We were impressed at how much work Justin has done in the wood, cutting back lots of the overgrown areas allowing so much new growth. The girls and I were looking forward to seeing Justin's pigs who we visited in the summer, but were informed they were now comfortably residing in the chest freezer back at the cottage. 

 After a nice walk we huddled around the wood burning stove in the little house in the wood before Justin let the girls take turns driving the tractor back down to the road. Athough Flo looks a little unsure in this photo, she was wetting her pants with excitement moments later when she took the wheel.

Saturday night we had a late celebration of Burns Night with haggis, neeps and tatties with Rick and Justin's neighbours  Jo and Stuart invited in too. We had a brilliant night, stayed up very late due to me not being able to stop talking - a consequence it would seem of spending too much time on my own at home. Sunday morning we headed to church where a new woman vicar was giving her first sermon. Her cool credentials were secured when she was first at the bar in The Queen's Head afterwards, wearing jeans and drinking a pint. Back home Rick pulled yet another feast from the oven - a full roast lamb lunch. It was sombre drive home. We are very jealous that Rick and Justin leave for NZ on Saturday for 4 weeks, spending much of their visit touring the South Island in Rick's brother's Porsche. Lucky sods.

Big Fat Gypsy Weddings

Following on from our recent 'only in Britain'  theme of last week, it would be remiss of me not to draw your attention to the Channel 4 documentary series Big Fat Gypsy Weddings. Billed as a fly on the wall series detailing the secretive world of gypsies and travellers in Britain, it is an absolutely compelling look at the extravagant lengths gypsies go to to celebrate the first holy communions and weddings of the young girls in the community. The dresses are extraordinary, most weighing the same as the bride, and designed to show off as much gigantic bosomage as possible. Imagine a dress a child would draw of a fairy princess wedding and then multiply it by a 1,000, then add sequins and lots of pink tulle and then double it, then add small top hats and 300 metres of veil, then multiply it by 50 and your halfway there. Last night we watched a young couple tie the knot with the bride wearing a gown she half dragged and half kicked down the aisle, made of voluminous layers of pink and lit - yes that's right, lit - from within by fairy lights and fibre optics. Girls as young as six have spray tans, wear full make up and dress in miniature versions of very grown up clothes. Much is made of the strong culture of the gypsies which they seek to protect with such events, even though they seem to bear a strange resemblance to the hip hop culture of east LA. We are only into week 2 and not much has been mentioned of how these extravagances are funded. Cannot wait for next week.

Extraordinary

There are many things in Britain that still take my breath away. Some good, some bad, some, well, extraordinary. Leaving aside for now that you can park facing into or against the traffic on the side of the road, and there are unisex changing rooms in swimming pools, I wish to discuss an item on this morning's TV. A show called 'This Morning' or 'So You're Awake Then?' or some such, this morning featured for nine minutes, an item in which five men (or was it six?) clad only in flimsy G-strings, lay on treatment beds while Louis Spence, the gayest and lispiest man in England, if not the world, applied a variety of hair removal products to their buttocks. THEIR BUTTOCKS! On television. Am I connecting with anyone here, cos, to be honest, I'm not feeling it. He then scored the results by writing on their buttocks on red lipstick. Yes, you read correctly. A lipstick which at one point broke because, to quote Louis "I pressed too hard." This wasn't part of a humourous late night game show on the Dave channel you understand, this was late morning family style TV. Anyway, between lisps, the presenter, a man who was able to make Paul Denham look happily married with three children, decided the Nads cream was the best. That's all.

This is the link to the website
http://thismorning.itv.com/thismorning/style-and-beauty/grooming-gents-louie-spence
 You really need to watch this segment.

Staying local

With both the girls back at school this week, and fairly rubbish weather - lots of fog, drizzle and wind - I've been staying close to home this week. My new best friend Cathy and I went to  the local cinema to see The King's Speech, the film about the lead up to King George VI's famous speech to the nation to announce Britain was at war with Germany. Colin Firth was terrific as the king and Geoffrey Rush does a fine job as the Australian speech therapist who works with him.  It was refreshing to see an Australian character depicted in a film without a corked hat, a barbecue busy with prawns or a single "she'll be right" type comment. 

Last night I went out with my other new best friend, Janice, who lives a few doors down, and another neighbour, Jem. We went to the residents' association meeting of an adjoining neighbourhood to register our objection to the demolition and redevelopment of an old warehouse at the back of our row of terraces. Aside from the blot on the landscape it will result it, it's a lovely old building that we'd rather see renovated than replaced with an unimaginative modern box. The meeting had all the elements of an episode of The Vicar of Dibley, with a rum collection of local nutters, councillors and old people with loud voices all talking at the same time. Afterwards we all retired to a local bar to put the world to rights.

We've been glued to the box all week, watching the tragic events unfolding in a flooded Queensland. Rob grew concerned mid-week when he was unable to get hold of his brother Craig and family who live in the suburbs of Brisbane. Eventually we made contact and had a skype session with him this morning, in which he bashfully admitted that while most of his city is under water, he was able to mow his lawn yesterday. My understanding is that both Anna Bligh and  Julia Gillard have shown what they are made of in impressive style. 

I know it's cold but...

...is it really cold enough for all this wood? The BBC reported this week it has been the coldest winter in 20 years. Not cold enough for the Duthies unfortunately. After the cruel flirtation with snow in late November and early December, we have had nothing remotely passing for solid winter weather in my book. Even our recent  trip north to Scotland delivered mild weather in the high single digits. I mean come on. We've been living in  temperatures between the low teens and low 40s for the last 13 years - we want a prolonged period of cold please. Anyway, Rob spent more than two hours this afternoon stacking the wood that was delivered at lunchtime. He's done a great job, despite reporting some upper body aches, and I just hope no-one turns up at 2am and nicks it all, as it is stacked on our small drive, right on the street.

Scarlett finished her first week at her new school, that brought with it, many tears and some anxiety for her. But by Friday she was all smiles, which is great. She has been out all day on a playdate with a friend from her old school and tonight we have some of our new neighbours in for dinner which we're all looking forward to.

Craft-tastic 2011

Thanks to the incredibly attractive ladies at Prints Charming in Annandale (www.printscharming.com.au), I took receipt of a fabulous care package just before Christmas. In it are enough sewing and embroidery projects to keep me busy by my fireside for months, and it is there you will find me, bifocals firmly wedged halfway along my slender (some say Romanesque) nose making door hangers/festive decorations and cushions. Here are 3 I've done so far (I've already given others away as gifts), the cushion completed today thanks to my totally brilliant, Santa-delivered, sewing machine. Aside from my handiwork, today was also special because Scarlett started at her new school. Once again it was I, rather than Scarlett, that shed a tear as we parted in the unfamilar corridors of Robsack Wood community primary school. She burst through the front door this afternoon with news of new friends, fun lessons and a desire to return tomorrow. Not bad considering she had to be pumped full of  Panadol this morning to bring down her raging fever. Also burning up big time today was Flo who has croup and is keeping us up at night with her uncanny bullseal impersonations. They both remain in high spirits however and as yet Rob and I have not succumbed to their lovely new British germs. We spent the early evening before the kids' bathtime in front of the fire playing the brilliant new card game (delivered for Christmas from Uncle Brett from his holiday in San Francisco) Rat-A-Tat Cat. It took some explaining - it is a Mensa- rated game - and was almost as much fun as Trading Pit. Almost.

Happy New Year 2011

We have just arrived back from three fantastic days in Scotland with the Mckendrys. As is always the way on any trip north, there is a lot of walking by day and lots of eating, drinking and game playing by night. Highlights included a chilly, foggy walk along the shore of Loch Lomond, where the kids had a ball on huge sheets of ice, smashing pieces together and sliding about. Later that night Neil produced the brilliant game of Trading Pit. None of us had heard of it, never mind played it, but within minutes we were in absolute fits laughing at what is essentially a very basic version of the way the trading floor of the Stock Exchange works. Each player has to yell out the number of the cards they want to exchange with other players in order to get a family of nine matching cards. What makes it hysterical is everyone is shouting at the same time. To make it more interesting, in each round we decided the shouting out had to be done in different languages and accents. The next morning we were still talking about it and someone even said it was the best laugh they'd had all year, not bad considering it was now December 31. On New Year's Eve we went for another walk across the fields and along the West Highland Way before lunch at the castle where Moira and Fraser were married in 1998. Back home we prepped the house for a NYE dinner (beef bourgignon) and night of games and dancing for 14, which was brilliant. This morning, as we cleared up, Fraser struggled to remember much of the evening, even the glass he broke and left in the corner. We met Moira and Fraser's new bessie mates, Gav and Kirsty, who were a massive laugh (though not quite as fabulous as us) and with whom we are now planning a holiday in the Summer without the Mckendrys. Just kidding... or am I?

Anyhoo, pics attached sums up the events of the trip. Happy new year everyone, may it bring peace, health and happiness to you all.