I Was Swallowed By A Hippo

Castle life, Aga strife, slummy mummy, average wife


on February 28, 2014

Spawnwatch: not as good as Homeland

Nothing says ‘spring’ like a bowl full of frog spawn festering on a window sill. We seized the brief spell of sunshine at the start of the week to collect this slimy treasure and lovingly recreated a pond environment for it in an antique crystal bowl. I didn’t fancy its chances left in the kitchen – too much prodding and tempting additions such as juice, salt and play dough, so we’re keeping it in the porch where it can be properly forgotten about, only to be discovered in a few months time, putrid and desiccated. So far so fascinating though. Each day those tiny dots change ever so slightly and I have high hopes of hatching out some wriggly tadpoles. At least I did until google informed me that the process takes up to nine weeks. I don’t think my attention will hold, never mind the children’s.

Strange golden light. No idea.

Strange golden light. No idea.

Snowdrops and newborn lambs also scream ‘spring’ and there are carpets of the former all over the place and plenty of the latter at a nearby farm to go and bother. I love this time of year. The days are lengthening and there are longer spells of sunshine, interspersed with hail, sleet, snow and torrential rain (and that was just this morning). The estate is looking fabulous with the trees just budding, daffodils about to burst into bloom and even the sea is beginning to look inviting. Is that summer I can smell or have the kids been eating Ambré Solaire? Again.

Not quite as exciting as watching frog spawn doing nothing was my first meeting of the Village Hall Committee. As a representative of the playgroup, I was prepared for the worst. Our little group has had bother with certain members of the VHC in the past and as predicted I received a scolding about lights being left on swiftly followed by another toungue-lashing about lights being turned off. I have a funny feeling we can’t ever win. Fortunately however, most of the members are lovely and I’m related to two of them (by marriage) which I assumed would be a big asset. This proved not to be the case when my mischievous father-in-law deliberately volunteered me for a curtain sub-group, set up to discuss soft furnishings for a refurbished room. I expertly managed to feign delight whilst simultaneously shooting him evil glances. In the end though, I wouldn’t have missed curtain group for the world. We spent 9 minutes discussing fabric, linings and attachments and then passed a happy couple of hours chatting about books we are reading, Scottish Independence and sundry village gossip, finishing up with a live hula-hoop demo. Best night out in ages.


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