Happy Easter 2011

A massively action jackson Easter weekend, as due to the continuing hot weather, we were able to pack loads in.  I awoke on Good Friday to Flo asking what that meant. When I explained that while Christmas is Jesus's birthday, Good Friday is the day he died. She asked her usual questions about  someone's death "Did he like cigaretting?", "Did he die in a car crash?", " Did he cross the road without looking?" etc. When I explained that actually he died when some people nailed him to a massive cross and popped him up on a hill, she looked horrified and declared, "You can't do that!!" Once the shock of the crucifixion had worn off, we drove to Maria's for an amazing roast lamb lunch served with caramelised tomatoes. It was a scorcher so after a spirited Easter egg hunt, we popped next door to Tina's to cool off in her pool.

On Easter Saturday, as I pottered in my garden, as has become my morning habit, I was chuffed to bits to see the fantastic wisteria and clematis in full bloom. Smashing. We packed a picnic and went to Summerfield woods, a new find for us and an absolute revelation. I 've written before about St Helen's Woods, where we often go for walks as it's a short drive away, but Summerfield Woods are only a short walk from our house. Bizarrely they are really close to the town centre and yet almost completely hidden as they sit behind houses, the law courts and museum.  I didn't take my camera so can't show any pictures here but the woods were absolutely magical like a film set of a fairyland. Beautiful trees, bluebells popping up everywhere, streams, a maze and a walled garden where we had our picnic. On Easter Sunday our neighbours ( and new best friends) Janice and Roger organised an Easter egg hunt in their lovely garden, complete with little arrows and signs and chocolate carrots hidden in the vegetable patch. The kids had to be quick because once again it was so hot, the chocolate was melting. I am not making this up.

Back home, other new best friends Cathy and Dom and their kids, recently returned from 5 weeks in Sydney, joined us for a meat-tastic barbecue on the deck. Despite complaints from us all that we would never get through 20 sausages, 8 burgers and steaks plus all the side dishes we made, we ate the lot.

On Easter Monday Janice and Roger invited us to their beach hut at St Leonards. The beach hut is a curiously British thing that may surprise and amuse Australians. It is like a garden shed, you keep at the beach, jammed full of anything and everything you might need in the event of any type of weather and natural disaster. We had no problems weather wise as it was another corker of a day. While Roger barbecued fresh mackerel, and took the kids out  on the rowing boat, in an hilariously girly fashion, Rob and I sat back and sipped cold prosecco, feeling that life wasn't so bad after all.

There'll be bluebirds over....

...the white cliffs of, er, East Sussex. Ok, so wrong song but right sentiment. 

We joined our neighbours Janice and Mathilde on a top day out along the coast to 

Birling Gap. It's a top spot, maintained by the National Trust and consists of tearooms and a bar and a row of cottages, some that have already fallen into the sea, due to cliff erosion, and a couple more looking like they're ready to go at any moment. This all sits on top of miles of amazing white cliffs, lapped by turquoise water. Down on the beach, where we picniced and soaked up the sun,  great chunks of white chalk litter the pebbles. We spent a very happy couple of hours eating, chatting and sunbaking while the girls ran about screaming. This seems to be the new way they express any delight. 

 After lunch we headed to the Seven Sisters Sheep Centre (home to the largest number of sheep breeds IN THE WORLD!) to see loads of newborn lambs, some twins and triplets, many just a few days old and one that was born an hour before we arrived and who we watched get up and walk for the first time. Its mother looked absolutely shattered after the birth (as you do) but seemed much happier after she'd eaten the placenta. Isn't nature wonderful? After more screaming by the girls, and a fair bit of squealing, we  got to bottle feed a selection of new baby lambs whose mothers couldn't manage it, one pair named Ant and Dec and another Kate and William.

In other news, I have my meeting at Bodiam Castle tomorrow to arrange my start date for volunteering there after Easter. I'm thrilled because my role on Mondays from now on will be driving the electric golf cart that ferries the elderly, disabled and fat, lazy visitors from the car park up the hill to the castle. As entertaining as this sounds, my motives are more practical. I think it would be lovely to work for the National Trust and I'm hoping that by starting out as a volunteer it might lead to a paying job. 

Finally, Flo's quote of the week upon being warned to look where she was going. "I know, I saw it. I'm not blind - I've got ears!"

The festival of Moira

The Mckendrys hit The Stings this week, at the tail end of their south east Easter trip. Because Scotland's school holidays are quite a few weeks off our own, Lily goes back to school tomorrow (a week before Easter!?) so they left this morning at 6am for the drive back to Glasgow, arriving at 4pm.

 We had a great laugh, as always, punctuated by trips to Winchelsea and Rye (where Dad and Alexandra were the surprise guests), a picnic at Sissinghurst Castle, an afternoon drinks in Sedlescombe and the Hastings funfair dodgems and  ghost train where Moira's high-pitched scream stopped traffic. On Saturday night we had a family birthday dinner for Moira, the finale of which was Rob's signature banana cake. The girls entertained themselves mainly playing spies and riding their bikes round and round and round and round the deck. The weather was gorgeous for most of their stay and we got plenty of vitamin D exposure. We're looking forward to doing it all again up their way this summer.

Blackberry Woods

Scarlett, Flo and I, aka 'the adventure girls' have just returned from a short camping trip in the magical Blackberry Woods. After our many camping trips in Australia, we have a pretty high standard when it comes to campgrounds. Of course, we found some rubbish ones there too, but in general Australian campgrounds excel for their size, firepits and cooking areas and usually for their beach, river or lakeside locations. Blackberry Woods, near the glorious town of Lewes, East Sussex, didn't disappoint. Ok, so the loos and showers were rather basic, but the generous private pitches, the location, the adventure playground and the surrounding area were all top notch. It helped that we arrived during the mini heatwave we have been enjoying for the last week.  The big downer was that Rob did his back in again this week and couldn't join us, but it turned into a really fun girls-only trip. 

We settled for our USA 2-man tent over the big 3-room tent, mainly because I have never paid the slightest bit of attention whenever Rob assembled the big one and wasn't sure I'd manage it alone. Our pitch - 'humpty dumpty' -was perfect. A huge space for the tent, loads of room for games of boules, plus a lovely outlook across fields and woodland to the South Downs. With the pitches separated by woodland, it was private without feeling too remote or scary. After getting the tent up, and filled with our inflatable mattress and bedding, the girls seemed to grow up before my eyes and did that thing I have longed for, for so many years - they took care of themselves. While they headed off to the adventure playground together, I lay in the tent and read. A book. I know, that's what I said. In the late afternoon, we changed into anti-mosquito long pants and sweatshirts and headed off across the fields holding a rudimentary map, with child-like drawings of the footpaths to the local gastro pub, the Half Moon. We crossed a field, then walked through a wood, then crossed another field and then another wood and then came to a public footpath crossroads. Unsure, we headed east and arrived on a pleasant B road but with no sign of a pub. Upon knocking on a blissful-looking cottage door, we were greeted by a lady from Arkansas who happily drove us the last half mile to the pub. We had a great night colouring in, eating huge sandwiches with chips and salad washed down with fruit juice and cider, before being pointed in the direction of the correct footpath home. This took us, as the sun was setting behind the South Downs, across fields awash with gold, passed horses and long grass, back to the campground. I lit the campfire and we sat around it in our PJs, toastings marshmallows. A game of boules later, and a chapter of Harry Potter and suddenly it was 9pm, time for bed for all good campers. Unfortunately, at that exact moment I noticed our previously taut mattress has lost  a great deal of air while we had been away. While fiddling with the stopper, to fix the loss of air, the stopper itself was shot inside the mattress, which deflated in about 4 seconds, ahem, flat. Great. We resorted to using the duvets as mattresses for the girls and blowing up a loan Thermarest for me. The girls were warm and comfortable, but without the duvets for planned extra cover over my sleeping bag, I froze and honestly felt as if I stayed awake all night. Clearly not, as I woke repeatedly to remember bizarre, mattress-related dreams, and finally when Scarlett stepped on me on her way to the loo at 7.30am.

We spent today at a horribly disappointing 'wildife reserve' where we were promised a newborn lamb, but saw only a few pigs, tag-nut laden sheep and some ducks. That's 20 quid, I'll never get back. The  playground was very cool however with teepee, fort, tyre swings and tractors to climb on. We finished the day driving up to the top of Ditchling Beacon (somewhere Rob and I had cycled up during the London to Brighton ride many moons ago), the highest spot on the South Downs, to challenge our ice-creams to stay in their cones as the wind blew and the temperature dropped. Happy, happy days.

Shirts off, gloves on.

Something comes over the British when the sun shines. Moods are elevated, clothes are reduced in weight and waters are plunged into. It's brilliant. Thursday of this week recorded the warmest April day since records began - 23.5 degrees. This might seem unimportant until you appreciate that  three years ago, on the same day, Britain was covered in thick snow. So, this week, I joined the other short-wearing, milky-skinned and thinkers that summer had arrived, for a bun fight at B&Q to buy bedding plants, rose bushes, tomato plants and bags of compost. We all smiled at each other, pretended not to notice each others' naff Maori, or gaelic or Chinese-influenced tattoos poking out from ill-fitting leisure wear, and just enjoyed the warm weather. Being part Aussies, we, of course, had to buy a gas barbeque. We can't do charcoal. An afternoon and a morning passed while Rob assembled our new flimsy purchase and we christened it today with the help of our neighbours Roger and Janice, a few hundred weight of chicken, corn cobs, peppers, haloumi and 4 blankets that had to be distributed by 5.30pm because it was too cold to sit outside anymore. The evening ended with Rob lighting the fire so we could all feel our limbs again.
Also this week I dug a second, smaller, garden bed intended to be our vegetable patch. One of the things I looked forward to most when we planned our move back to the UK was having a go at growing our own veg, and keeping a well-planted garden, something we were very successful at in our big garden in Islington, but that we failed miserably at in Sydney. Everything we tried to grow that wasn't remotely tropical or heat resistant ended up fried, roots boiled to death. Yesterday and this morning I have planted tomato plants, raspberry vines and carrots. It's not summer yet, but we're getting there.

There's nothing like it

Totally brilliant spring weather yesterday and today - 20 degrees. Yesterday Flo and I began with a 2-hour garden session at the farm project we are part of. While I weeded the raspberry patch and then mulched the vines, Flo made what were essentially 'poo castles' out of the compost pile. After  a quick lunch at home, Rob dropped us off at the seafront with Flo's new bike and while she cycled, I ran. She amazed me by making it halfway to Bexhil and back, a good 4 miles, with me panting along beside her. Rick came by train last night from Bedfordshire for dinner - only 3 trains required - and poor Flo, try as she might, could not keen those big dark brown eyes open long enough to greet him.  Breakfast with Uncle Rick this morning had to do before he got 3 trains back to work again. 

Today was just as stunning so Flo, Rob and I (donning shorts and sundresses, sans cardis) drove into Kent to Sissinghurst, to the extraordinary house and gardens of 1930s gardening guru, Vita Sackville-West. It was a fairly long, hot drive, but through beautiful countryside, so we were disappointed to arrive and find the gardens and house and cafe and shop, all closed - Wednesdays and Thursdays are the only days it is isn't open! Silly, silly Mummy. However, we were able to do one of the walks around the grounds, passing fields of (mint sauce-loving) lambs,  tranquil lakes and got a stunning view of the gardens alive with daffodils, bluebells and snowdrops. It was absolutely gorgeous. We stopped for a pint in the sunny garden of a village pub on the way home, making it a near perfect day.

Home

Back this afternoon from a packed family weekend. Straight from school on Friday we all drove to Kent to spend the night at Dad and Alexandra's house. Alexandra mixes a mean G&T, while Dad's domain is the kitchen where he prepares a feast for dinner. On Saturday after a full English breakfast we drove to Chatham to Dickens World, a sort of indoor theme park devoted to the life and works of Charles Dickens who grew up nearby. It was pretty amazing, with old laneways, houses, shops and a river that felt like being on the film set of the film Oliver! There were live performances of Dickens' work, a scary boat ride that left Dad and Alexandra soaked and Scarlett and Flo in tears, holograms of the ghosts haunting Scrooge and a great 4-D film about Dickens' life that soaked us again. Back at Dad's we had a lovely lunch in the garden and then walked down to the church to check out the headstones of people who had been buried in the 16 yers since Rob and I were married there (the spot we stood in for wedding pictures is now full of new graves) and then carried on down to the river to play pooh sticks off Kettle bridge. Walking through the fields I used to go to as a kid with my girls makes me indescribably happy. We were having such a nice time that the girls and I decided to stay another night so sent Rob back to Hastings as he had to get up for work this morning. Today was Mother's Day so after a quick breakfast, Dad and Alexandra drove us back to Hastings, stopping at a great little market in Staplehurst where I bought plants for the new garden bed and an old foot stool, I plan to recover, for the bargain price of 6.50. We drove to Maria and Lol's for a smashing roast lunch cooked by Rob and Lol. Despite some friendly rivalry in the kitchen amongst the boys on the best way to cook roast potatoes and Dad's nursing hurt feelings over the new twosome in the kitchen usurping his usual role, the lunch was a triumph.


This afternoon, while Flo played some computer games and Scarlett and Rob took her bike to the park, I managed to get my new plants in the garden and read the whole paper. This week we're promised temperatures of 21, which bodes well for our mini camping trip the week after next.