Spring sprung yesterday. You could tell because suddenly everybody, and I mean everybody, was up and about, shedding scarves and gloves and warm, woolly hats and revelling in the sunshine.
We were no exception, the Middle of the Darling Daughters, King Baby and I. We were off to the park, Young Faris's first ever trip to a park and so a milestone to be marked.
marked the milestone by singing him a song about going to the park. I sang it, more or less, to the tune of "We're all going to the zoo tomorrow." But substituting "park" for "zoo" of course. Park rhymes with lark which was useful, as in "we'll have such a
lark, lark, lark..." but I was a bit stumped for a third line, opting, rather weakly, I thought (I am my own worst critic) for "making our mark, mark, mark..." I know, I know, I was a bit ashamed of it, myself. Baby Boy didn't seem bothered, he likes repetition
above all things which is fortunate indeed. When it comes to endless repetition of silly songs there are few people who are my equal, Even though I say it myself, who shouldn't (as my dear mum would have told me, had she been here.)
I really wish my mum was here. She woud have adored the Adorable Baby, as she would have adored the rest of the Extraordinary Eight. She would have made them her famous Spotty Dick pudding and read them poems by Rabbie Burns
in her best Scottish accent. (Regular readers will remember that my Mum aspired to Scottish roots though I, the self-appointed Family Historian, have not been able to find even a tentative link to Haggis-Land.)
The park we went to was called Nonsuch Park, which (I said) sounded vaguely Henry VIII to me. Guess what, I was right - the park was once the site of Nonsuch Palace, built by Henry of the Six Wives. I doubt he actually built it himself, you know, as
in brick-laying and whatever. I can't imagine that he personally fashioned the stone staircases or carved the wooden fireplaces. But I can just imagine him giving instructions and declaiming "This will be a Palace none such as has been seen before."
OK the palace isn't there any longer but there is a lovely tea room where I treated the Middle of the Darling Daughters to a blueberry muffin and a decaffeinated latte. Not much, when you think of all the treats
she has been showering on me this last couple of days. Walking round the grounds we imagined all the fun Young Faris would have in the future, playing Cowboys and Indians, riding his tricycle, enjoying a picnic, chasing the squirrels. The sunny, summer days
stretched out in our imaginations like a long carpet of happy times to come.
It was quite a long walk to the park and back but the Middle of the Darling Daughter and I are made of Strong Stuff and
refused to admit to one another that we might have ached a bit after all our exertions. Baby Boy, riding high in his Super Buggy, had no complaints.
Today I was delivered home to Mr B. I rode in the
back seat of the car, next to King Baby, who kept me entertained with the many facial expressions he adopted while sleeping. Mr B was pleased to see me home (I think) and even more pleased because the Middle of the Darling Daughters was cooking us steak,
chips, mushrooms, onion rings and tomatoes with a rather delicious carrot cake to follow.
They have all headed off home now. Mr B is snoozing gently in his arm-chair. I am thinking of the week ahead
and planning a new project or two. And I'm looking at the (somewhat blurred) photos on my camera from the last weekend and thinking:
"That's my boy!"