those hazy halceon days...

today was warm and balmy and very gardeny and ice-creamy and the wasps were out a bit and the clouds were high in the sky and liz kept remarking upon how much she'd really like to eat the clouds and mol remarked back how she would probably now only eat cloud when she was in an airplane and then i dug up some of my dad's beetroot and cooked up some of his fine green shiny courgettes and warm tomatoes from the greenhouse (if that smell of tomatoes in a warm greenhouse could be bottled...) - (top-banana courgette & tomato pie I wizzed up by the way - recipe will be released with my book... - ha! fooled you! as if! like, er, never? I have one friend who each time I see him, maybe once every other year, he says, SO, MothersRuin, when is the big novel coming out? and I'm a bit like, uh, quoi? bless you, you fool! I have no imagination bar what goes into my brain [which is mostly inactive anyway, dulled by wine and chocolate] via my eyes and out through my fingers on the keyboard - no epic or sordid or thrilling or animal or kid stories stored up in this grey matter Mr RHS, no, but thanks for the encouragement...) - (so the courgette and tomato pie recipe is safe with me and goes with me to the incinerator) and lots of children under the age of 7 sat around my parents dining room table and ate their herb sausages and mash and beetroots and sweetcorns and courgette pie and then skipped out of the dining room merry and full in the belly and happy to "I'm just going to digest my food mum, in the garden" go do running races directly after eating meat and 2 veg (no one vommed although if they had the dog would've happily cleaned it up) and then 6 children under the age of 7 sat under the bulging tulip tree and melted icecream in bowls to make icecream-soup whilst making polite conversation with each other (what do they talk about? Russian politics? the state of the economy? why don't brits holiday in UK? what does the tooth fairy really do with old blood-encrusted-teeth?) whilst two grandparents and two mothers sat in the august sun drinking black coffee and talking about Russians and politics and holidaying in Europe whilst occasionally being interrupted by small people requiring understated attention such as a bottom wipe or a nose wipe or a tonka-truk or a quick escape from a dog on the hunt for bowls of icecream...

just one of those good english summers days where the hours are long but not hard and the sun is high but not burning and the kids are happy to idle and the wrinklies get some time to finish their sentences and enjoy watching their children being sweet and happy and child-like without knowing that they are the centre of attention as the wrinklies sit exclaming how sweet they look and how happy and how good it is for children to be outside sitting under a bulging tulip tree.