Squash

A volunteer squash plant popped up in the garden in early summer. It turned out to have these delightful little squashes on it. I vaguely remember buying a small squash last year that was part green stripes and part orange. No doubt the seeds were composted and found their way into the vegetable beds.

The squashes above are all from the same plant. Just one is dark green, and it has a spot of orange on it. I left them on the plant to ripen and they are all lasting really well. I think I shall save some seeds and grow some more next year, I just love how dinky they are.

We are at the end of 11 days of holiday for the urchins. The littlest boy was doing his homework before bed. I was very cross. I must have asked him ten times during the holidays whether he had done everything for school. Honestly.

There was a dearth of trick or treaters on the streets tonight when the dog and I made our inspection of the neighbourhood. Some people had made a brilliant job of decorating and there were lots of nicely carved pumpkins and candles. One or two households were actively trying to lure people in by shouting, 'Do you want sweets?' across the road at other people. 

Bertie found something on the pavement and ate it. His revenge for me not allowing him the half of a burger he found this morning. Last Hallowe'en we came across someone in a giant dinosaur costume and he was terrified. At least there was nothing scary out there tonight. Although I did see at least eight cats and a good half of them were real. He's not the most observant dog though, so he didn't see them. You can bet that they saw him though. I felt they were looking down their noses a bit.

I don't think I have any actual news today. I took the littlest boy shopping at the mall this afternoon and it has rather taken it out of me. I can barely string a sentence together. I bought him a new t-shirt, which I rather regret now (see homework, above) and some socks. I bought two new notebooks which I absolutely definitely need. For something, at some point, possibly soon. 

Also, a plant pot as the littlest boy has rather an indoor plant addiction now he has taken over the big bedroom with the big south-facing window. And I am pretty much an enabler. We went to the garden centre and looked at cactuses and I said helpful things like, 'Ooh, look at this one, we haven't got one like this.' I need to rein us in. 

Hoping you are enjoying Hallowe'en. I have celebrated by eating a dark chocolate KitKat from the bowl for the trick or treaters. In fact, there are still some left.

Snappish

Obligatory tourist shots from the nation's capital. I took the two younger urchins who were quite frankly rather snappish at times. We went to the Tower of London where we had the option of a guided tour. The middle boy said we had a guide book and didn't need such a thing, then proceeded to hurtle round it at the speed of light, not opening the book once. 

After we left an argument broke out and I had a Moment, explaining how, as I normally work most of the weekend I had mistakenly thought it would be wonderful to finally have a day off and go somewhere lovely with my wonderful children BUT IN FACT IT WAS ALL COMPLETE HORROR. Then we all settled down for a bit and went in search of the boat I had booked us on to. 

We ended up at the wrong quay, but in some quite miraculous way the littlest boy led us through a couple of marinas, past fancy boats and fancy restaurants in a most unpromising direction and, presto, we were at the right one.

Then after the boat, we walked for about three hours without stopping. The middle boy, whose legs are very long, strode off, directing us here, there and all over the shop. The littlest boy and I stomped along behind with me weakly suggesting coffee or a cake or AT LEAST A SIT DOWN FOR TWO MINUTES. The middle boy said that he had sat down all the way there and would sit down all the way back and he most certainly did not need to sit down while he was there.

In the end I forced him to sit down on a bench type thing (maybe a planter...) outside of the Ivy Market Grill in Covent Garden. There was lovely violin music drifting over from the market and we had sandwiches and it was almost like we were actually in the Ivy for the three and a half minutes we were there.

My best bit was when we popped into the National Gallery to use the loos and one of their staff asked us if we were looking for a particular painting. I said in fact, we were just looking for the exit. He pointed us in the right direction but said that as we were there, we could just look at a particularly wonderful painting. He described where it was, and then (maybe saw me looking a bit vague, I honestly can't find things, ever) he said he would take us himself. 

He proceeded to show us Leonardo da Vinci's the Virgin of the Rocks and talked about it with such knowledge and passion. It honestly made my day and I'll remember it for a very long time. 

The littlest boy's best bit was the hot dog I bought him right at the end when I realised that I had actually managed to go the whole day without buying him a tacky souvenir. To be honest, I think he had just lost the energy to campaign for one.

On the coach home in the dark, two women and a man, probably in their sixties, sat at the back rather loudly gossiping the whole way home. It was utterly fascinating and completely impossible not to listen, with nothing to look at and no energy for conversation of my own. Later on, the littlest boy said to me, 'There was a woman on the coach who said such and such.' It made me laugh that he had listened to it all as well. I said, 'I know. And what was Desmond thinking???' I suspect half the coach was wondering that too. Made all the more delicious because everyone was local. 

How are tricks at your end? All good I hope. CJ xx

Out with the old

 

Well, after a mad few weeks the biggest boy is installed at university and the other two are back at school and I am breathing deep, cleansing, uninterrupted breaths. The eldest has managed some laundry and all seems well so far. The littlest boy is missing him, having handily forgotten all the torture and scuffles before he went away.

No opportunity was wasted to increase my anxiety about the whole thing. Conversations went like this:

Me: Which bathrobe do you want to take?

Biggest boy: The thin one.

Me: The thin one??? You'll be freezing. You need the thick one.

Biggest boy: I'll be getting dressed straight away in the mornings, the thin one will be fine.

Middle boy: He'll be sleeping in his clothes. In the street.

I looked into insurance before he went. Some insurance companies were offering cover for theft of shopping on the way home, as if he might be attacked and his groceries stolen after leaving the supermarket, as in some sort of dystopian nightmare.

We had a few minor disagreements over what he actually needed to have. He felt that £100 jeans and £170 speaker were basic necessities. I spent about three weeks going, 'You're a STUDENT'. He has £28 jeans and a £30 speaker which I am counting as a victory.

His group in the student halls had the opportunity to chat online before they met, so in theory they could have arranged kitchen equipment so that they didn't end up with twenty saucepans. Instead, they created a playlist and organised some cool lighting. I did see someone with a bread machine going past when I arrived though, which felt promising.

The university has literally dozens of exciting things going on, I was quite green with envy. Hedgehog preservations groups and gardening and exploring the countryside and trips here there and everywhere. It sounds brilliant, although of course he will probably mostly be going to the bar and not growing his own food. It would all be just right for me though. Except the shared kitchen. He said it is 'not quite as bad as I thought it might be, but you would still be horrified.' I think I am probably more robust than he gives me credit for, it's just that I am overly dramatic when someone makes a kitchen mess at home. I channel Monica from Friends a lot of the time, just to keep people in line as much as possible. 

I decluttered his room on Saturday and the littlest boy and I went plant shopping, then on Saturday evening he moved in, as it's much bigger than his room and has a view of fields and cows. Although his own room has a big tree outside right outside his window with resident pigeons which he is rather attached to. I did deep cleaning and it is all dust-free and sparkling. The littlest boy is on his best behaviour and temporarily committed to keeping it all lovely in there. 

And that feels like all the news I have for now. How is everything at your end?

Still waiting for a hedgehog

 

More holiday snaps, if you can stand it. I remember when I was little you'd come back from holiday and invite the neighbours round for the evening to share your holiday photos, often via a projector. There was usually wine and people got a bit pink and giggly, even if it was only the Isle of Wight. 

The dog and I climbed half a mountain, then I decided that the rest of it would be far too difficult for him (lots of big jagged boulders) so we sat on a tussock to wait for the urchins to return. To be fair, it was a beast of a climb, and everyone said the dog wouldn't have managed it. Some people said I wouldn't have managed it too, but of course I would, I was just thinking of the dog. 

I ate all of my sandwiches and said hello to the other walkers who went past on their way up. An eight year old girl and a three year old boy included. A young couple came past, him striding out, being all leader-of-the-expedition, her trailing slightly and interrogating me quite hard about how far I felt it was to the top. I said I hadn't been and I wasn't going, I was sitting and waiting and enjoying the view. She said longingly that that sounded like an excellent idea. He laughed loudly and on they went. 

Apparently the biggest boy told the other two several times that they were almost at the top. It was one of those mountains that looks like you're almost there, but you're not. But they did it, and managed not to fall out. I've noticed that when the chips are down, they do manage not to be too dreadful to each other. Unlike other times, for example, when they are all in the (small) kitchen together trying to make lunch and cricket teas all at the same time. Oh my, did that turn ugly. I found a falafel stuffed inside the oven glove afterwards. Least said about it all the better.

At home, my wildlife encouragement plans hit a slight snag when a rat wandered into the kitchen. You may recall we have already had a cat strolling round the living room, bold as brass. The middle boy and I were eating breakfast in blissful peace and quiet when there was a mad scrabbling in the kitchen from the dog. He had the rat cornered behind the bin. The middle boy escorted the dog away and I shut the rat in the kitchen temporarily while I scoured the house for things to block the escape route. It was fairly easy to shoo it back outside, where I think it is probably living under next door's decking. This is the mouse-poisoner and herbicide fanatic, so I fear things may not look good for the rat if he is discovered. The dog is rather pleased to have been upgraded from purely decorative to chief rat warden. All of a sudden he is a working dog! And we all know they have special food.

It's the first rat I've ever seen since living here, more than ten years now, and the day before I saw the first squirrel I've ever seen in the garden. I wonder if things are being dislodged by the drought. Did I ever tell you about the squirrel on the wires at the front of the house? It was tightrope walking all along the street. At first glance it was intriguing, so I notified the littlest boy, who adores all animals. After a while it became obvious that the poor thing couldn't get down though, and it was all horribly dangerous and after about half an hour I was really wishing I'd never pointed it out. In the end it did manage to get all the way up to the end of the street and round the corner, where the wires slope down to the ground, so we convinced ourselves that there was happy ending.

I must just say thank you for all of your brilliant suggestions for entertaining older urchins over the summer. I particularly liked Jo's tip of making a list of things everyone wants to do at the start. I am definitely guilty of thinking that we'll get dozens of trips in and then realising the whole six weeks has flown by and we've barely done anything. 

Right now I am waiting for cooler weather and fingers crossed some heavy rain, as no doubt lots of you are too. The children have been playing cricket all weekend, which seems like madness. As I type this, a few clouds are gathering in the sky though, so I am eternally hopeful. 

Green and grey

 

We loaded up the dog and headed up the road to Wales last week. It was beautiful there as ever. There was even some rain. Glorious. There were ferns tucked into slate walls, sea ducks out on the estuary, mountains topped with clouds, mullet feeding in the bay in the evening, mist on the lakes in the early mornings and sheep and rabbits all over the shop.

The eldest boy likes to climb mountains at sunrise and sunset, while the littlest boy likes to dig holes in sand and jump into the sea. The middle boy is easy going and likes all of it, and coffee and good food and funny conversations. Well, okay, maybe he's not a huge fan of digging holes, but he did shin up a mountain and swim in the sea. I climbed up half a mountain and looked at the sea. 

In the evening they played football together and I read my book and lightly policed it when it threatened to turn bickery. It was all rather blissful. And now we're back home and the garden is of course parched and the work has piled up. Not complaining though, not at all, it's all good. Well, not the climate change obviously, but I am putting out water for wildlife and doing what I can to be part of the solution etc. etc.

I need to up my game and entertain the urchins a bit I think. It's very easy to think, oh, I'll work this week and do something next week, and then the weeks slip by and I realise I haven't done anything. The littlest boy has a new-to-him bike which he is loving, so we did do a bike ride today. It's hard to think of things that teenagers would all like to do together though. With their mother in tow. That doesn't involve me handing out wads of cash. Ideas gratefully received.

How are things at your end? Back soon with the sorry tale of my garden bench, which I was going to tell you this time, but I couldn't bring myself to quite yet, it needs to settle a bit first. CJ xx