This weekend was, again, a quiet one for us. It’s all I want at the moment though, so that’s fine by me!
Mark’s still working away on our bedroom. I swear that wallpaper is stuck on with superglue and I am now 100% a wallpaper-hater. It will never touch the walls in this house. Ever. Again.
He should be done next weekend, and then it will be time to prep and paint. Which I’m so excited about. Our bedroom is hideous and I can’t wait to have a calm place to relax in. I keep having visions of our little family tucked up in bed in the future, with a little newborn, eating toast and watching the iPad. It’ll be a long while until that happens but it will be a nice thing to look forward to.
Now I am brave enough to drive the car I have been driving to Sainsbury’s every weekend, which is basically the only place I can drive to, but who cares right?
I like doing it though. It’s nice to feel free in a way. And it’s nice to have some one-on-one time with Bill too. He’s so cute as we go around the top and we usually sing song and debate about what cakes to buy.
He gets exasperated towards the end though:
Bill: “Are we finished now, Mama?”
Me: “No, not yet!”
Bill: “Ohhhh Mama! You can’t possibly buy anymore!”
It does make me laugh.
Once we got home, Mark kept going and we made lunch – huge tiger bread sandwiches – and cuddle inside for a little bit.
My little boy is really growing up. Look at him. Look at that grown face. He’s so different now. But still the same. He can talk and talk and the conversations we have are so precious to me.
When we tucked him to bed on Saturday night, he looked up at me, cupped my face with tiny hands and said: “We had a lovely day today, didn’t we Mama?
And we did.
We took advantage of the small slice of sunshine, in a week full of rain. It doesn’t feel much like Summer at the moment. So this was so welcome. I got two loads of washing on the line and the boys just ran around like the plonkers that they are. I can’t stop watching them sometimes. Minutes pass and I come to and realise I have just been stood watching, with a damp t-shirt in my hands, still waiting to be hung to dry.
The week we went to Venice, was the week that my garden grew out of control, and my potted plants died a death.
I’ve managed to tame the lawns, but I’ve had some plant carcasses at the front of my house for weeks now. So I bought some new ones to spruce everything up a little bit.
I like potting plants. Or just planting in general. Seeing the colour in my garden grow is lovely. And it’s a peaceful job that I can do in the company of two cats and my own thoughts. I don’t get to do it enough. I almost feel like I’d be the happiest person alive if I had an extra day in the week to fill at home. But it’s just not on the cards for me, sadly.
After I’d done that, I walked out to the back of the garden, past our gate, and into the place Where The Wild Things Are (at least, that’s how I like to think of it). The plants are overgrown. A wild land of blooms and scurrying things, with trickling water.
Romeo and Elsa love it down there. And I do too. They look so wild, apart from the tell-tale sign of domesticity in the form of their jingle-jangling collars.
I was cutting my hydrangeas, just enough to fill two mason jars inside. And both cats came to join me. Elsa’s in the photo above too. Just see if you can spot part of her.
I love hydrangeas. I always think that they look like a cluster of pastel butterflies resting together. Maybe that is just me. But they do make me smile. And I’m lucky that my plant gives me blue, lilac and pink shades – which look so pretty together.
Sunday morning and Mark and I continued to be Yin and Yang. He went for a run, after letting me have the most lovely lie-in (the type where you stretch yourself awake with a yawn), and I headed straight for bacon, egg and an English muffin.
I did try and have a coffee and an orange juice too. The coffee went cold. And the orange juice, along with half of my breakfast was ‘shared’.
“Mama…I think you should share your breakfast.”
I think I was robbed, personally.
We declared Sunday a PJ Day. So I write this in fresh PJs that dried on the line yesterday. They smell so good and I feel so cosy.
We haven’t done much. Aside from play. Lounge around. And eat.
Which are, quite frankly, some of the best things in life I think.
I made a hot pot. Which cooked for hours and was so good. I made a side of cauliflower and broccoli cheese to go with it, and I’ve whizzed both into soups for mine and Mark’s lunches tomorrow. I’m looking forward that, especially given we’ve a week of rain ahead.
Bill also played shopkeeper with us today. And I don’t think we’ve laughed so much in quite a while. He was quite the salesman, and I’d attempt to explain it, but I wouldn’t do it justice. But then I guess that’s why I make our family videos. So I can re-live it over and over again.
And I would just like to end on Romeo’s face when Bill woke him up earlier.
Watch the home video: