I stayed much too late in bed this morning, reading an un-put-downable book (The Memory Keeper's Daughter), relishing a late morning and a quiet house to myself, and enjoying the luxury of a soft bed and warm covers.
Only 10 minutes before the visitors were due I jumped out, flung on clothes and ran a brush through my hair, while hurridly slicing refrigerator biscuits and placing them in the oven to bake.
Jumps and Greg had arranged to spend the day repairing my Mum-in-law's wooden verandah and building a set of solid new steps down to the lawn.
So Rachael and I watched babies play, drank generous cups of tea, and fixed lunch for when the boys took a break from building.We chatted and caught up with our family news, while we soused lamb chops in rosemary infused olive oil, chopped olives and fresh red tomatoes for meditteranean pasta salad, sliced thick wedges of blue camembert and set out crackers and dips with vegetable crudites.
Later Tara and Tim arrived with baby Trinny, and we managed to fit in still-warm slices of impossible pie, swirled biscuits, shortbread fingers, dark red grapes and tangy strawberries .. before taking a much-needed turn about the garden.
The children were entranced by the chickens, and loved the fields, but we didn't make it any further than the sandpit, where they dug and played until it was time to go home.
Such beautiful children, all of them. We're so lucky.
... and blythe ...
... and good ...
.. and gay.
.. and gay.