Picnics or Barbeques

The weather is supposed to be marvellous this weekend, so that only means one thing!  Make the most of it.

This means outdoors, open windows, sunglasses, large hats, paddling pools, chic street cafes and smart expensive convertible cars.  This is how London looks its absolute best.

Which shall it be picnic or barbeque?  Maybe we will put it to the family vote. The last two days have been wonderfully warm, bordering on Caribbean temperatures.

OR

Maybe the question on Caribbean shores would be the same

but their added advantage would be they could go parasailing or water skiing to round the day off on a white washed crystal clear beach.

Dinner = Silence

We are a very lively household, a fun family, we often laugh, joke and play with volume.  My husband is the biggest kid of them all, he is always inventing games for the kids at home.  His natural speech level is definitely, let’s say on the loud side.

My teenage son is a real talker, but only on his terms, if we want to be heard during one of his much loved TV programmes, be prepared for The Wrath of Khan to appear in my sitting room.

My little princess (bless her!) tries to be heard, though she has her moments, but usually gets heard last.  She sulks and complains if she fails to get noticed, when we have been made aware of this terrible oversight, in her opinion, she is then lavished with attention, until forgotten again.

Me, yeah, what about me?  My silence is golden, when I am quiet it is when everyone else should be on their toes as volume will inevitably follow.

Today was bliss followed by the ultimate compliment.  I had prepared the evening meal of gammon with all the trimmings and as eating began, there was absolute silence.  This could only mean one thing, they were totally enjoying their meal, therefore, no need for speech, no need for comment, no need for volume, only to ask “Can I have some more please?

I have seen photos of pork roasting at barbeque grills in Anguilla, Caribbean cooking at its best, I think my gammon was neck and neck, totally on par, if I say so myself.

Stuck in the TV soap sud mud

Isn’t it strange how I didn’t miss TV of any description when we lived in Cyprus, but here in London, I feel as though I miss out on all the neighbourhood gossip in TV soap land if I forget to watch Eastenders or Coronation Street.  We would spend many evenings sitting on the balcony watching the sunset and didn’t really care what was on Cyprus TV (even though we did have some english speaking channels).  I believe it all has to do with the weather.

Cyprus enjoys over 300 days of sunshine a year, so we had more of an outdoor lifestyle. The children’s school day began at 7am and ended at 1pm, so quite often afternoons were spent enjoying fun picnics at the beach.

Garden barbeques were another favourite or tending my large vegetable patch, with various fruit and olive trees, as well as feeding our farm animals which included chickens, rabbits and our lovely baby goat Lola, who would answer “baa” whenever I, and only I, called her name.

However, we did at one stage have a particularly wet winter.  This was always welcome by the locals as the summers were always hot and dry, and fears of a drought were always the hot topic of conversation.

Anyway, as I was saying, this particular winter, we craved a little comfort and watched four, yes four, of the Harry Potter films in succession, wrapped in blankets in front of the log fire.  I have to say even though I absolutely loved the hot, sunny days on the beach and the fish meze dishes at the seaside restaurants, this memory stays with me, as a warm moment in my life.  A creature comfort!!