I looked after the children all morning, as Dilly was helping with a charity stall under the Buttercross and Al was, as always on a Saturday (unless I take over) at work. Little angels, they were. They were still having breakfast when I went through, then Squiffany dressed herself and I helped Pugsley, then we came home and they bounced on my bed while I worked around them to change the sheets and tidy the bedroom. Then I told them I’d bought them some new paints, so they painted at the kitchen table while I cleaned up around them. Squiffany is very into rainbows at present, and wanted to know the order of the colours, which she painted carefully and accurately. She wrote her name on the page – she can write all the letters but does not yet know that the order matters. After that, they ate cheese straws and jam rings and I squeezed orange juice for them, and we came and played Lotto. I needed to wash the kitchen floor, which I’d left until after the painting was done, so they watched television and played alone for a bit, and then we went out into the garden. It was windy. After that, they had lunch and then their mother came home.
Squiffany was going to a party in the afternoon, so Pugsley came to me again. He did some more drawing – we both drew a tiger and an elephant. He was so impressed by my stripes that he overlooked the fact that I’m not sure what a tiger’s ears look like. We read a book three times. I wanted to read a different book, but no. For tea, I cooked him fish fingers, chips and peas. I would like to think that this does not make me a Bad Granny. In fact, he fed me most of the chips, grinning mightily, ate the fish fingers – three of them – and left the peas. I looked at him and thought how like his father, at the same age, he looks.
In between times, I cooked carbonnade of beef for dinner. It is apparent that the weather has changed. I want to be in the warm kitchen, cooking. It’s very windy tonight. We ate it with sprouting broccoli, mashed potatoes, courgettes and carrots. I ate my share of carrots raw, while I was peeling potatoes.
The Bishop is coming again tomorrow – I know, darlings, you wait all year and then all your bishopings come together. The service is at a different church and the organ, and organising, have nothing to do with me. I will make chocolate brownies as my contribution to the tea.