The Simple Things

Just to prove I don't always come on here to rant...

... it's been a surprisingly mellow weekend and not even I could find anything to whinge about.

Mini-me's school had its annual Party in the Park yesterday which was a fun evening meeting with other stressed parents and de-stressing courtesy of an awful lot of assorted sparkling beverages and the varied contents of our combined picnic hampers. Mini ran around doing his own thing, terrorising little girls and attracting the usual posse of older girls who for some reason think he is 'fab' (Mini's future career as a gigolo is looking increasingly like a cert). After he'd cadged the dosh for one of those ghastly glowing sabre-thingos out of me he and the other blue-flavoured offspring had great fun acting out best scenes from Bridge at Remagen (the current WW2 film of choice). 'We're moving in' echoed around the park in the intervals between the acts on stage. One can only hope the Headmaster's garden survived....

After a pretty impressive fireworks' display a very tired Mini summed it up: "That was the best party ever, Mum". So everybody is happy, for once.

The fallout from doing the cooking for the picnic hampers occupied much of Sunday - thank GOD for dishwashers, I LOVE the person who invented them, whoever he or she was. It wasn't all fun though - the plants I bought at the garden centre last week and hadn't had the time to put in were wilting so, much as I'd liked to have sat out just reading and knocking back more cold fizzy stuff, my conscience couldn't take the pressure. Gloved up and dosed up with Piriton I dug the necessary holes (carefully avoiding the cat-poo where possible) and, as is always the way, got suckered in to doing a few other jobs out there too - deadheading, general faff. But a very very good antidote to some of the stuff one has to endure every time one leaves the house or puts the TV on - and a good reminder that it's the simple things which make us all happy at the end of the day.