A Slindon Round, a set on Flickr.
On my own for the weekend, whilst the Family go camping… so it’s off to the woods I go to see the bluebells.
I saw more than just bluebells, and resolved to look them all up when I got home to check the names!
Corrections welcome 
Salterns Way , a set on Flickr.
Bank Holiday Monday, and rather than get stuck in the queue down to the Witterings (more of that later), the Family (minus Daughter of Mine who was sailing with a friend at Chichester Marina) decided to cycle from the marina down to West Wittering along Salterns Way.
Sadly we had two unpleasant encounters; one with an elderly gentleman berating us for pushing our bikes along a footpath (difficult to do a walk/cycle combo any other way) and the second while passing the fairly slow-moving queue to East Head beach, wth some extremely loutish behaviour by a convoy of four cars – shouting, playing loud music, getting in and out of each others’ cars, kids without seat-belts clambering around and obscenities being shouted out of the windows at us and other passers-by.
Still, I had a refreshing pint of shandy and chips in the garden of The Old House at Home, which Husband of Mine confirmed was now a gastropub and completely unrecognisable from the pub he frequented in his youth!
“Daughter of Mine is most definitely now a tweenager.”
I started a draft post with this title and opening sentence over a year ago. Distracted by life, it – along with many other posts – was never finished and published. But then again, this blog has ended up being mostly about my memories; this photo qualifies as a memory – my blog, my rules.
This photo was taken in February 2012 – when Daughter of Mine was still just 11 – and texting was as social as she got. Tomorrow she turns 13… with the best and worse of social networking within her grasp.
Although, according to news stories following the publication of Facebook’s annual report, teens are turning away from the social media giant in favour of other, more awesome/wicked/cool (or whatever the latest ‘word’ is) social networking apps.
You know, the ones where you don’t have Mother of Yours as a friend.
Although Daughter of Mine was actually very focused – concentrating hard whilst sewing badges onto her Guide camp blanket…
Two hastily arranged posies to take to church for Good Friday’s Easter garden service.
Husband of Mine commented: “It’s amazing how many pretty flowers we have in the garden!”
Er, it’s the same every year. A couple of tatty daffodils, branches chopped off the hebe and a variegated green bush I don’t know the name of, a sprig of heather and some tiny purple flowered ground cover that pops up every spring.
But put the posies with the others in the Easter garden and they look as beautiful as any professionally arranged bouquet.
Evy: (Holds glass up) “Alright, I’m through, I’m through. (Raises glass to lips and finishes it) There! Alright?
Here is the theatre pictured the morning after the last night of The Gingerbread Lady – we were well and truly ‘through’, with the props and furniture cleared, the set ready to take down and cast and crew ready to move back to their real lives.
In fact, the character of Evy, in Neil Simon’s The Gingerbread Lady, wasn’t ‘through’ with her drinking at all; this was merely the first glass of alcohol to pass her lips since coming out of rehab and the one that marked her return to the booze.
It was certainly a challenge and a privilege to play the part of Evy, and it was wonderful to work again with such an intuitive director. The last time we worked together was for the play The Memory of Water, which I found so creatively stimulating that it led me to start this blog as an outlet for my own memories and experiences.
The Gingerbread Lady has been different in many ways (including taking up so much time with line learning and rehearsing that I had little left over to do any blogging!), but ultimately still an amazing experience to work with another fabulous team of people, both on stage and backstage.
As Evy would say, “Glasses up, everyone!”
Sunrise hike to Halnaker Windmill, a set on Flickr.
This morning Son of Mine and I set off from home for a sunrise hike up to Halnaker Windmill with the local Cubs.
I don’t do mornings, but I do do walking, so I happily volunteered to accompany Son of Mine on this early start, in return for a brunch of bacon & eggs cooked by Husband of Mine later.
Son of Mine was up and dressed at 5.00am when the alarm went off. Me, I needed a mug of strong tea to kick start the morning; also making a flask each to take up the hill to accompany our hastily thrown together picnic breakfast of jam sandwiches, fruit and yogurt.
It was a cloudy start at 05.45am, yet thankfully at 06:51am, the sun started to peek through the clouds, just 10 or so minutes after the official sunrise time of 06:40am.
A picnic breakfast was enjoyed by all – despite discovering that other dedicated parents had managed to get up in time to make warm bacon butties – and then the Cubs had a scavenger hunt with a mini Easter egg goody bag prize to keep them going on the hike back down.
I was pleased to see all four sails back on the windmill. The last time we were there, on 13 February, three of the sails had been taken down, presumably due to storm damage earlier in the year.
