It's Christmas, and time for all sorts of simple pleasures. Our kids are all at home. I know this because the internet is slow, (the result of competition for bandwith), the fridge is chockas, and the dog barks at night from the garage because she thinks that she should inside like everyone else.
They're growing up. One clear sign is that the elder two (both male) have developed a preference for specific alcoholic beverages. (Guinness and Lager respectively - would you believe). My suggestion that they mix them to make Black and Tans was not greeted with any enthusiasm. Eldest daughter scorns alcohol, so put in an order for Lemon, Lime and Bitters. I got it wrong because I bought the diet variety. When I was her age, life was simpler and there was no possible confusion about diet varieties because they didn't exist. Youngest daughter is on a health kick (thinking about it, she's always on a health kick) and drinks water only. H likes anything that fizzes – that's how she finished up with me. I've used the Christmas excuse to stock up on a selection of Shiraz (plural?).
When it all got a bit crowded the other day (32 squares doesn't seem enough when they're all home) H and I went on a picnic. We drove the MX5 to a spot near Hampton, of special significance to me because it's near a grove of pine trees planted by my Dad before he went off to New Guinea in 1943.
It was cool shady, and quiet, and it was great to simply sit on the soft grass and enjoy the view. One glass of plonk (I was driving) helped with the ambience. I guess we could have walked 200 metres from home and found a spot equally as pleasant, but it wouldn't have been near my old man's trees. That's my excuse, anyway.