JACS came to see us at the end of March. They had an extra swimming lesson on Saturday afternoon then were driven straight down with Barney and Lukie for a foreshortened weekend. But what fun we had. The children tucked into a deluxe fish pie, laced generously with hard-boiled eggs and French crevettes roses. Each helping had to have at least one prawn in it, one child (was it Sam?) had four helpings. Joel, not a fish fan, tasted some and came back for more. Result! (Punch fist in the air!!)
Later, four adults sat down to supper whilst the two older boys floated round the table. We ate oysters (Sam almost tried one :D), our own prawns, whelk bread (now there’s a culinary dark horse if ever there was one), scalloped pollack roe, what was left of a fish pied, green salad. Leftover strawberries
On Sunday the main contingent went off to Monkey World and I put a golden corn-fed chicken, brought back from my nice French egg lady, into the Aga and drove to Weymouth to pick up Mum. We progressed lunch, then the front door was flung open and four excited children greeted my mother enthusiastically. With assistance from Mum, Amelie spread fruity goodies over the surface of a sheet of feuillete pastry to create a unique tarte.
The day was beautifully warm, sufficient to warrant a roast lunch on the terrace, under the garden umbrella stuck into am improvised stand of a bucket of our surplus flints. After lunch Mum gave the children Easter eggs. With no sense of fun diminished, she played ‘which hand?’, and tricked them, causing great merriment.
During their visit both Sam and Joel lost milk teeth. Joel kept his tooth loss quiet, put his tooth under the pillow without telling anyone, then announced in the morning that he had disproved the tooth fairy myth. The tooth, he said, would go into his “secret stash of teeth”.
Too soon, it was time for them all to head back to Oxfordshire. Whilst Nick cleared the kitchen, his forte, Mum and I took naps. She on the sofa, whilst I floated upstairs with my book.
We ate supper in the kitchen then Nick took Mum back to Weymouth. It was only after they had left that I discovered she had cleared up all the Lego pieces from the living room floor, no light undertaking as the floor is wooden and the pieces are myriad. We had brought the Lego back from France, where it has languished pending building works, to keep the boys occupied during lulls in activity.
Thank you Ole Kirk Christensen, master carpenter and joiner, manufacturer of stepladders, ironing boards and wooden toys. In the year that I was born, you, by now owner of a company called LEGO, were the first to buy the plastic-moulding machine that was to give rise to the best toy ever!