A visit from the Iveys

It's been half term here this week so we've had a bit on. Richard and Kath came to visit mid week, we had our neighbours Janice and Roger  in for a curry on Friday night, with Cathy and Dom dropping in for a drink, and on Saturday the Iveys drove down from Wimbledon for the night.  After a trip to the re-opened funfair for dodgems, carousel and mini rollercoaster, it was time to run home, through the rain to a warm fire, the Saturday papers and some games. Children in bed, we had a wonderful grown ups dinner, cooking our signature pork fillet dish, before falling like felled trunks into bed. This morning, Giles ventured out into a stunning sunny, spring morning, returning with piles of newspapers. After 36 rounds of tea, croissants and hot cross buns, Rob returned from work and we hit Pett Level for a lovely walk, stone and shell finding expedition. The kids were also invited aboard the lifesaving boat by the boys in the wetsuits, much pant wetting all round. Back home, the grown ups fell on the papers while the kids watched  films, played games and dressed up before a roast chicken lunch. The weekend ended with Scarlett and I curled up in the armchair, in front of the fire, watching Dancing On Ice.  Spring has sprung, daffs are in vases, our bulbs are up, so not sure how much longer we'll have that fire going. 

Och aye the noo

Lucky me -  I got to have a last minute long weekend in Scotland with Moira and Fraser leaving Rob and the girls behind. The main purpose of the trip - apart from to allow Moira to feed my undernourished frame with her regularly delivered meal service, was to see Sarah who had also flown over for the weekend from the US, with her twins Ruby and Jacob. Sarah and Moira were my bridesmaids and Sarah and I were Moira's and they both spent part of their honeymoons staying with us in Sydney, so we all go way back. Despite all seeing each other regularly over the years, in the US, Britain and Australia, we worked out the 3 of us hadn't all been in the same room together for 13 years. There was much to catch up on, aided and abetted by Fraser's beard which poured the wine and attempted rudimentary childcare so us girls could catch up unencumbered by children. Visits to Stirling Castle and Balmaha punctuated the trip which mainly involved long chats on the couch and around the dinner table. Great stuff. 

Laughed. A lot.

The weekend began with a trip to the Saturday morning movies to see Megamind - hilarious. One of the funniest kids-films-that-parents-like-more than we've seen since Toy Story. Voiced by Will Ferrell, Megamind is a giant blue-headed superhero who uses his powers for evil. There were so many jokes only grown ups would get, that it was sometimes hard to hear the dialogue over Rob's hoots of laughter.  After lunch I got the girls ready to drive Scarlett over the hill to nearby Fairlight for the birthday party of one of her classmates. Only a few hundred metres along the road I felt we had a flat tyre so turned around and drove home, parking the car on the pavement to make it easier to change the tyre, and by that I mean for Rob to change the tyre. Even though I have, bizarrely, written a column on how to change a tyre I have never actually done it. After much rummaging in the boot, producing a sucession of metal objects and tools we were totally unfamiliar with, we worked out the jack and the thing for undoing the bolts on the wheel. A third oddly shaped object drew expressions of bemusement from us both so we used it to hold the pages of the car manual open. Moments later a bloke appeared from across the road offering help. He was what I think my grandmother would have referrred to as a 'rum sort', with a broken boxer's nose, a cropped hair do and large 'diamond' earrings. The cynic in me imagined that after effectively finishing the job for us that he would ask for money. While we waited for him to tighten the bolts on the wheel, during which he pointed out our bookmark was actually a tow bar, I casually mentioned I had been on my way to a kid's party when I spotted the flat tyre. "Was the party in Fairlight?" he asked. "Yes," I replied. "We've just dropped our daughter off there," he said. It turned out our good samaritan was the dad of one of Scarlett's classmates. Handshakes all round soon put me back in my box as did the realisation that he had been driving in the opposite direction when he saw us and had done a u-turn to come back and help us. As we waved him off I noticed his wife had been sitting in the car all along, just happy to wait while her husband did a good deed for someone else. Hastings 1, Duthies 0. On Saturday night our giggly babysitter Debbie arrived and Rob and I walked to Maria and Lol's for a dinner party with Maggie and Popi and neighburs Wendy and Mike. It was a very entertaining night with lots of laughs and storytelling. On Sunday morning while Rob was at work, the girls and I watched the DVD of Ring of Bright Water, I found in a charity shop last week. It was the first viewing for them and the first for me in about 30 years. Once you get  used to the beyond annoying flute and other irritating woodwind instruments that mimic the movements of the otter Mitch, it's very enjoyable and made me want to move immediately to a remote croft by the sea in Scotland. That was until Mitch got his head bashed in by Angus the local ditch digger. Tears dried, we had a really lovely Sunday lunch with our neighbours Janice and Roger and  two of their friends before collapsing into bed at 8.30pm exhausted.

Now I really must draw your attention to another extraordinary British TV series called Embarassing Bodies. Each week members of the public, who have some sort of unplesant and therefore, as the title suggests, embarassing problem with their body, comes into the mobile surgery manned by three TV doctors to get a diagnosis. They then show the Dr, and the rest of Britain let's not forget, their embarassing condition. In close up, on camera. Now I'm not sure whether they give the people who come on the show drugs, booze or money to get them there, because for the life of me I have no idea why the young and otherwise attractive young woman on this week's episode would want the rest of her nation to see the rash on her vagina. Anyone?

Likewise the woman whose anus we saw or the man whose leg sore was really more of a fizzing open wound (see above). Are these people unaware they could simply pop to their own GP, A&E unit or psychiatric hopsital for treatment? When I finally managed to drag my eyeballs back in from their stalks and back into my head long enough to roll them in Rob's direction to check his reaction, I found him similarly engaged, his gob agape like the doors to a cross channel ferry. Needless to say we will not be missing this week's instalment.

Busy bees

We managed to pack lots in this week. On Thursday after school, we took the kids to see Tangled, the brilliant new Disney film about Rapunzel (just as good for grown ups as for kids). On Friday, our car, the interior of which resembled a mixture of a child's playroom, a student house and a nuclear waste dump, was in need of a good clean. Not since I discovered a plate with a pizza on it in Sarah Robertson's bed in Kew, have I seen such a mess. Rob was sent out into the cold to do the job but within moments a pyjama-clad Flo was hot on his heels. Once I had wrestled her into a jacket she was off, working her way through a series of vacuum cleaner attachments until the car sparkled. We can't seem to get rid of that smell though.  On Friday night, keen to catch up on our pre-Oscar film viewing, Rob and I watched and enjoyed The Social Network, the nerd-tastic story of the creation of Facebook.

On Saturday we drove across Romney Marsh and on into Kent to Canterbury, where we planned to show the girls the cathedral. I hadn't been since I was 18 when we watched a performance of Murder in the Cathderal in the crypt.  This plan was aborted when we discovered it was 8 quid each for adults and 4 each for the kids to go in. To a cathedral.  Instead we had lunch in the city and then drove on to Whitstable to see Liz and Charlie in the run up to Charlie's birthday party. A bottle of prosecco was opened, cupcakes for the party were decorated and then Charlie and Flo, who are now strangely inseparable (strange because in Sydney last year they fought all day long), disappeared upstair to mix toothpaste and shampoo in a bucket and make a big goo perfect for rubbing into carpets. Downstairs the parents sipped wine in blissful ignorance because they were quiet. The evening continued it would seem in a similar vein of wine dirnking. At some point a curry and pizza were produced ad consumed. I'm guessing the last bit as I have no memory of actually eating it, but the tell-tale curry stains on my dress on Sunday morning gave that away. Oh and the fact that my head felt as if it had actually been split open with an axe. I have never, ever had a hangover like it - the closest being the one the morning after my 30th birthday when I cried, I felt so bad, and Rob had to drive me to and from work, I felt so ill. Now I've mentioned we drank a bit but on surveying the empties there were only 3 and there were 3 of us and this didn't seem to be the sort of hangover  you get from drinking a bottle of wine, more like 4 or 5. I spent 5 days last week on a protein only diet and I'm pretty sure this may have had something to do with it - no carbs, fruit or veg, just protein and fat-free dairy. Needless to say, after being helped into the car, I started to feel better on the drive home but didn't touch a drop of wine at Maria and Lol's where we had a lovely Sunday lunch with Dad and Alexandra, where stories of drunken nights were shared around the table...

...and the other one

Scarlett's second big tooth leapt to freedom last night, apparently missing its partner. She now resembles a young Dracula and has developed a pleasant lisp. Looking at this photo, I realise how long it's been since any of us have seen some serious sun. Scarlett looks positively anaemic. For myself, although I'm pleased my skin is getting a break from 13 years of sun, I'm finding that not having a tan shows up all the lines, wrinkles and other consequences of sun damage.  Pass the fake tan.

Big teeth

Scarlett looks quite demented in this photo which shows the departure, yesterday, of the first of her two big front baby teeth. After a night and a morning of fiddling and twisting, it evidently fell out during lunch at school. She now looks like a young Nanny McPhee.
Also new this week, the dance exercise class Maggie and I attended on Monday night at the local high school. After some anxious minutes in the car trying to guess the age group of the other exercisers we would encounter - Maggie thought 16, I thought 65 - we were beyond elated to discover a gym full of middle-aged ladies who'd had too much pie. Just like us. An hour of marching, agonising leg lifts, cha chaing and, bizarrely, grapevining, later we were two sweaty but happy individuals and will be back for more next week.

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.

It's Christmaaaaassssss!!

Christmas began in earnest for us on Christmas Eve when we had the Spareys, Ludkins and Duthies over for fish pie washed down with gallons of Champagne. I made everyone clear off by 9pm so we could 'prepare' the house for Santa. We put out the traditional glass of milk with mince pie for the big fella and a carrot and reindeer food for Rudolph. Come Christmas morning we were all suitably thrilled and amazed to see that Santa had reversed a semi-trailer of presents up to the base of our tree. Flo was particularly awestruck by the gifts, agog each time she opened a present no matter how small. After changing into our new clothes we drove to Maria and Lol's where a lunch for 24 was being prepared.

 While my Dad organised the troops to help plate up his production line of beautiful food, with the precision of a tank commander, Jack got stuck into a Beano annual and Ethan played under the specially built key-shaped table. The roast pork loin was a triumph as were the flaming puddings and we played wink murder, who's in the colander and charades until it was time for us to be decantered into Alexandra's car for our ride home. A top day. Merry Christmas everyone.

Santa's on his way

We've had a very festive week. We took the girls to London on the train and spent a very happy few hours wandering between the excellent Borough Market and the Tate Modern. The market's selection of foods and festive spirit was excellent and after sampling enough free cheese, bread, olive oil and mince pies to sink the Belgrano, we walked in the rain along embankment to the Tate. As is always the way with any visit to a gallery for us, we spent more time in the shop than looking at the actual exhibits, satisfying our love of design, leaving laden with several gifts. We had lunch in the top floor restaurant which was packed with people in paper hats drinking too much wine. There were other people there too - boom, boom! Yesterday we finally got our time slot to see Santa at Bodiam, so after a lunchtime nap for all - except bookworm Scarlett who finished a chapter book in a couple of hours - we headed back to the castle. Although there is no longer any snow in Hastings town centre where we live, only a mile or two up the hill the snow is still on the ground and in the countryside it's lying thick and beautiful across the fields. As dusk fell we queued up for a thrilling 5 minutes in a castle turret with the big man in red. No, not Mick ucknell, Santa. While Flo asked him a stream of questions about the logistics involved in him making it down our chimney (we have a wood-burning stove now which must make it trickier), Scarlett read out a long, long list of gifts she is hoping to get including a iphone (no chance), a DS (must be joking) and a large cuddly elephant (what the..?). Clutching some gifts from Santa, there was peace and harmony in the world, until we got in the car and the girls had a huge fight over their newly acquired presents.  Once home, we slipped into eveningwear and headed to Maggie and Popi's for a Christmas cocktail party. I had a great night but remember nothing about the taxi ride home.

Snow way, Jose

It's been a weekend of snowy catastrophes and fun. On Friday we had tickets for us and the Spareys to see the panto of Cinderella at the local White Rock theatre. Due to the ice and snow that hit town that day the Spareys' babysitter got stuck and couldn't make it to their house, so only Maria was able to join us. We made our way to the theatre by car, sliding the last part downhill on ice, stopping just before we joined the ring road. The panto was brilliant. I was expecting something along the lines of A for amateur, but it was great. Despite a seriously diminished audience size, the cast put on a hilarious show that we were able to scream, heckle and laugh through. Jimmy Osmond was very game and laughed at himself like a pro. While Flo was genuinely terrified of the ugly sisters, who had THE BEST outfits outside of Mardi Gras, Scarlett found the whole thing amazing, declaring me, uncharacteristically,  the 'best mum ever' at the end. On Saturday we were expecting to meet Liz and Charlie at Bodiam Castle to meet Santa in his fairy-lit grotto. Again the snow led to the whole event being called off and Liz and Charlie were unable to make the drive south to us due to heavy snow in Maidstone. Cathy and Dom and their kids were supposed to come over afterwards for Nigella's coco cola ham. In the end the gods were against us.Their son Gabriel was too sick to come so Cathy stayed at home with him. Dom made it over with Francesca who was clearly unwell with something unpleasant. They left early,  so in the end it was Rob and I with Maggie and Popi eating ham and cheese in front of the  fire with a couple of bottles of Champagne.  

Today, feeling quite housebound, the girls and I sorted through the playroom, making a pile of old but useful toys we will donate to charity on Monday. When Rob got home from work we drove north into  Kent for the carols at Scotney Castle. On arrival a large sign informed us they were cancelled and the castle was closed due to snow.  Grrr.

Driving home, Rob turned off onto the B road to Bodiam where we discovered the castle closed, the moat frozen,  but the footpaths open. We had a lovely hour walking around the castle, throwing snowballs, making snow angels, before having lunch at the local pub. 

Once home, we were invited into the home of some neighbours 6 houses along. We had only ever met them, heavily rugged up, building a snowman some weeks ago. We had such a great time in their home meeting a really great bunch of like-minded folk, who all live within walking distance.  This weekend we have also been trying out the sloe gin Moira and Fraser brought us earlier in the year, made from sloe berries they picked on Ashstead Common in the summer. It is a triumph, resembling the caprioska cocktail we loved so much in Sydney.

It's the baby Jesus part 2

This week was Scarlett's turn to shine as Mary, and very fetching she looked too in a two-piece blue outfit the style journos are calling "fashion forward". She delivered her two lines with confidence and panache, a performance the critics are calling "timeless", "profound" and "it was alright wannit?". As with Flo's nativity play, it is no longer enough to simply perform the well known story of the birth of Christ, comedy, tangents and diversions are all thrown in these days to please bored parents. No photos I'm afraid - supermum left the battery charging at home but took the camera anyway!) - but this short film. This week was also Scarlett's last at Claremont. she starts a new school in January that we are all really excited about. 

It's the baby Jesus...part 1

Flo did her bit for acting all over the world today with a performance as Mary critics are calling "Extraordinary", "Insightful" and "plop plop rasp". With a rather excitable donkey to contend with, Flo showed her maternal side as she gently lay the baby Jesus in the manger and then turned him upside down so his blanket fell off. In the foreground an angel lifted up her skirt to show everyone her tummy and her M&S tights. Marvellous.

The Festival of Rick

Totally top weekend with Rick and Justin (and Inca the wonder dog) making the journey all the way from Suffolk for the night to celebrate Rick's birthday. With all the heavy snow during the week we thought the long planned weekend would have to be postponed, but thanks to a night of warmer temps and heavy rain, all the snow had gone by Saturday morning and the roads were clear. Thankfully the train tracks were also free of ice so Jane and Anne, two of the boys' closest friends, were able to complete the surprise portion of the weekend, arriving by train on Saturday afternoon. Champagne corks were popped and the celebrations began. After games with the girls, they were dispatched to bed and the grown ups disappeared below stairs for pea and mint soup, 5-hour roast lamb and banoffee pie. On Sunday everyone rose late, except Rob who had to go to work at 7am, had a leisurely breakfast and then we all walked along the beach to the Old Town for lunch at Dragon. Back home we finished off the banoffee pie, read papers and Justin dozed on the couch in front of the fire. A short final period of recreational disco dancing and karaoke heralded the departure of Rick, Justin, Jane and Anne back into the cold night to London and beyond, while we watched the X Factor semi final results. My favourite, Mary Byrne, was voted out last night so I have now switched my support to Rebecca for next weekend's final.

It was a brilliant end to a great week. With the girls off school, and the car out of action due to the snow, we spent Wednesday at Maria's and joined forces again on Friday for a chicken casserole-off and a massive snowball fight in the garden. Ironically the snow has left us before either of my ebay orders of sledges and snowboots arrived. 

20cm overnight

All the local schools were closed again today, there are no trains running in or out of Hastings and I've only seen a handful of cars pass our house all day. We live on a fairly main ring road around the town so that's saying something. As you can see in this photo of our street, the light is green but there is no traffic. It interests me that this is a major news story and everyone is complaining about not being able to get to work.  The girls and I attempted a snowman build this morning in the garden but the snow, though very deep, is not the snowman kind, and kept falling apart in your hands. I'm starting to understand why eskimos have 50 words for snow. Maria's dog locked himself in the coal cellar and we had to go grocery shopping on foot, with Rob carrying it all home in his huge backpack. Scarlett, Flo and I had a lovely walk in the park this afternoon. Everything looks so beautiful but soon the snow came down again heavily and we were forced back home as Flo had got snow inside her boots and was too cold to go on. Our view of the town is stunning with the castle gently powdered like a cake. We are expecting guests this weekend but expect they might not make it down here. Scarlett's school nativity play has been postponed for a week and the school Christmas Bazaar scheduled for Saturday may also have to be moved.  I know the UK isn't Russia or Canada and that it doesn't snow heavily every year, but we do get snow here often and yet the whole country comes to a complete halt when it snows.