Showing posts from June, 2017
On birthdays and at Christmas, while we were raising our kids, there was always one present that had to be opened first. It would be sitting on the dining table, ready to be unwrapped before breakfast. Why before breakfast? Because it was a valuable computer game or expensive toy that had to be opened immediately. Because it WAS the breakfast. Yes, we always surprised them every year by wrapping up their Christmas or birthday breakfast. What was in it? It was a parcel of smoked salmon, syrupy pancakes and croissants. It was a box of sugary cereal. We didn't let our kids have sugary cereals on a day-to-day basis. They now, in their late twenties and thirties, swear that this was a form of deprivation. I'll just say this in my own defence. The kids still have all their teeth. And they also have a memory of a childhood ritual no other child in Britain will have ... The childhood ritual was this. On special occasions, we made an exception to the sugary cereal
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I'm going to entertain you with a few photos from my phone camera for this blog post. That last sentence was full of hope. My husband apologises to a fish for the fact that we're just about to fry it to perdition and eat it with dill sauce. That's the definition of insincere. This is what passes for vandalism in Leamington Spa. Someone sticks a washing instruction label over the bus timetable. It's wild round here. Armed police and everything. Fran's husband adds to her cute display of preserves on the kitchen windowsill with his own brand of interior decor. Fran realises that although her kitchen decor is no longer coordinated, at least her socks match her laptop. Fran, sitting with her 95 year old Gran and her 4 and 3 year old grandchildren, isn't sure whether to feel young or old. Seen outside a pub near Fran. An early work by Dylan Thomas.