I love poppies, all poppies, from those delicate fragile breedy hearts that fill the fields, to bright sunny yellow welsh poppies and of course these enormous gorgeous big full blown stunners. They always seem to emerge just as there is a downpour and a high wind, ready to wound them and break their beautiful petals.
This is a catch up post really. I didn’t blog on Friday or do a baking post on Saturday as real life kind of took over round these parts.
I overdid the running on Thursday and could hardly walk on Friday. I mean hardly move. I couldn’t even bend my knees to sit at my desk. Really felt old and waaaaay too old to be training for a half marathon. I don’t want to actually be punishing myself, creating actual and physical pain that goes on for days after the horrible pain and exhaustion of the run itself. I must be off my head.
Saturday was spent getting organised for my ikkle tiny baby daughter (read 5’4″ gorgeous grown up teenager here, I’m just being all Mumsy) coming back from her school trip to France. Goodness, had I made all that slovenly mess in the house? Really was it me who was responsible for the crisp packets in the living room and the wine bottles in the bin? Had I really not been firm with my washing and let it build up? OMG how I had let myself go in just a week of having the place to myself. Major clean-up and washing ensued.
Baking was called for. Something special for the homecoming queen – chocolate hazelnut whoopee pies! You’ll get the recipe on Saturday!
Look, more poppy pix, don’t you just love them!!
Anyway back to my exciting life…..
You may well be wondering what Idgy thought of the
lovely Finzean ferret. Was she bowled over? Was she thrilled ? Did she leap up and down in child-like excitement?
No, none of the above. Poor old Finzean (hereafter to be referred to as ‘The Horrible Polecat’) was looked at in something akin to horror, and “You can’t bring that into the house” was the first sentence she uttered. Why do I so often feel like our roles in life are somewhat reversed. She really is Saffy to my Eddie if you know your Ab Fab.
“But he walks on a lead” I cried, quickly clipping on his lead just to show her his party piece. He did a tour of the garden, allbeit trying to scamper through bushes, but hey he was walking while attached to lead and me on other end.
“How could you do this to Harry?” she wailed. I had to agree on that one. With all the mayhem HP (Horrible Polecat) has caused this week I do doubt my sanity in bringing him home, really should have bought a tea towel instead.
Harry meanwhile is lapping up the extra attention she is showering on him since her return. The sweeties she brought back from him were snaffled within seconds. He is almost dancing attendance and seems to have a new found vigour and playfulness. A real case of “Sod that young buck outside, look at me, what a wonderful weasel I am!”, and so he is. We love him to bits.
Minou had to make Idgy suffer somewhat for being away for so long. There was cold shoulder, cold back and cold tail from The Lady Of The House for at least 24 hours. But they are friends again now and curled up in front of the TV together.
Me, Oh I’m chained (no, make that welded) to the bloody washing machine doing one load after another with a house that looks like a laundry as it is pouring with rain and it’s all having to dry in the kitchen.
Good lord, how many clothes did she take with her. Alas I know the answer only too well, her entire wardrobe and now it is hanging on every available surface in the kitchen.
Ah the joys of home and family!
Here’s another poppy to make your Monday complete.