I knew it might be a challenge keeping the Rascally Trio occupied yesterday, given that the weather was not exactly promising. After a long-ish car journey, they would need to run off some of their pent-up energy before
letting them loose on Mr B. Once back to our house, however, there was one activity they would certainly be well up for - the making of the Flowerpot People.
have been trying to find time for their manufacture for simply ages but events kept getting in the way. The Trio, like three small but persistent elephants, have long memories and were not about to let me forget about this latest project. “Will we be
making the Flowerpot People?” they demanded, via FaceTime, the day before their visit. One way or another, I determined, it Had To Be Done.
The Middle of
the Darling Daughters, proud mother of the Rascals, picked me up from home and we drove down to the seafront where we unloaded scooters from the boot of the car and set off towards the Lido where I thought we might introduce the Trio to the delights of the
Amusement Arcade, which has often been a place of retreat from wintry weather. It does occur to me that, like most grandparents, I am a Very Bad Influence in a multiplicity of ways. Am I, perchance, introducing the Trio to the doubtful delight of gambling?
The problem with slot machines is that there is no guarantee that the lollipop teetering on the very edge of the bottom shelf of the Push a Penny machine will actually tip
over. Nor that, even if it does, that it will be the “right” lollipop according to Tala (elder of the twins by one important minute.) Young Faris, who has the greatest success of the three, is sweet enough to offer one of his own prizes to his
sister when he sees her distress at winning the “wrong” lollipop. His mother and I are very proud of him and I decide that maybe the Trio’s excursion into the den of iniquity which is the amusement arcade is teaching them certain valuable
Life Lessons. Not least that the machine will always, in the end, gobble up all your twopenny pieces and leave you with little more than a lollipop or two. And then only if you are very, very lucky...
While we have been inside the arcade losing three pounds worth of tuppenny pieces (I am, as you know, the last of the Big Spenders) the rain has set in and we have a long, wet walk / scoot along the prom, prom, prom back to
the car. Maybe we shouldn’t have parked quite so far away? my daughter and I ask each other. Too late now, as anyone who has gambled on good weather will surely tell you.
Still, back at home we had all the excitement of making the Flowerpot People to look forward to. While the Middle of the Darling Daughters cooked lunch for us all, I supervised the Trio’s Flowerpot Person production line. Fortunately, there was
total agreement about which of the Trio should have the pink, who the red and who the cerise flowers which would form the Flowerpot People’s hair. I was a little worried that none of the three would want the black flower pot for their person’s
body but once I mentioned that their mother liked to wear black, Young Faris immediately laid claim to it, leaving the green pots to his sisters. Despite a few problems with goggle eyes falling off and buttons slipping crazily out of position, by the time
the Middle of the Darling Daughters produced our lunch, we had three character-full Flowerpot People to show for our Earnest Endeavours.
I love the fact that,
despite following the same basic instructions, each of the finished Flowerpot People has an identity all its own. Faris’s Flowerpot Person, dressed in black adorned with shiny red buttons, has a high, high forehead - possibly indicative of massive
brainpower? Lilia’s has a look of sheer astonishment on its face as if it can’t quite believe what has happened to it. Either that, or it really, really needs the loo. Tala has added a white button nose to the two goggle eyes on her person’s
face but this doesn’t disguise the fact that it looks more than a little tipsy. We sit the Flowerpot People on three colourful plastic chairs and admire our handiwork. I ask if the Trio would like to take them home but the Middle of the Darling Daughters
says, hastily, that it will be much more fun to keep them at our house and enjoy them every time she and the Trio visit.
It seems I am now responsible
for their survival. I’m not sure I can keep them indoors as they take up quite a lot of room though they are excellent, if somewhat silent, company. I sat them in front of the TV to watch the Queen’s Speech this morning and they were admirably
restrained in their comments. They will look great outside in the back garden - but I don’t think I can leave them out in all weathers even though they might well scare the living daylights out of our resident squirrel.
I’m getting quite ridiculously fond of them - in all their Flowerpottery!