Squiffany, my eldest grandchild, is 11 today. Imagine all the platitudes, so that I can resist the temptation to say them. I called over this morning to give her her present – I don’t usually drop in unannounced but I took the precaution, in case they were out, of taking a bin liner and a ball of string, so that I could lower the parcel over their back garden gate and put a note through the door.
It was quite a large parcel and my birthday wrapping paper roll turned out to be not up to it. So I used Christmas paper instead.
They were in, so I stayed for a chat. Squiffany had had her birthday party yesterday and it sounded brilliant. Al and Dilly are very imaginative and they’d gone to a load of trouble. It had a Hunger Games theme (all the girls love the books and films) and they’d had them make shelters (foil survival blankets are two for £1 at Poundland and canes are £1 for a bundle), had little bottles of various ointments and medicines, had pictures of food to shoot (this was not animals and they used darts; it entitled them to their tea) and had a treasure hunt and various ‘ordeals’ and competitions. The children had a great time and so, I suspect, did Al and Dilly; as much in the planning as at the party.
This afternoon, I helped with the children’s crafts at the Palm Sunday bash at the church – an hour of making things, then a service, then sausages and cake for tea. There were two donkeys, which gave children rides outside first, then carried a girl who played Jesus into the church. The donkeys had already been to St Paul’s and Southend today, which puzzled me slightly, I’m not sure why Norfolk donkeys were booked to go that far, but never mind. One of the ‘crafts’, organised by the Rector’s wife, was making “donkey droppings” (i.e. chocolate truffles).
Tomorrow, a governors’ meeting. After that, there are only two to go – a number of committee meetings in addition, I haven’t counted them up – but I’ll count them down.