Monday, 13 April 2015

"Hullo clouds, hullo sky"

The other day I was exclaiming about how delightful and entertaining the lambs in our field were when I heard one of the children (who are, of course, all adults now) say: "Uh oh, mum's getting weird again." Followed by "She's going to take a picture of the lambs and put it on facebook" with heavy sarcasm. Yes, I am coming over all Fotherington-Thomas.

For the uninitiated, Fotherington-Thomas was often heard to say "hullo clouds, hullo sky", loved all things girlie especially nature and was unfortunate enough to be at school at St Custard's with the dastardly but highly entertaining Nigel Molesworth.

All this happens in Down with Skool, How to be Topp and my personal favourite, Whizz for Atomms - which should be standard reading for children even now - though is not very pc regarding spelling.

Anyway after that long digression, I am loving the arrival of spring in an entirely Fotherington-Thomas manner. Last winter was the darkest winter in my world and back in the autumn, I did not expect, nor could I begin to imagine, the arrival of spring. In late summer, the garden had become not only the National Collection of Dandelions (so named by the singing, dancing doctor - thank you) but was beginning to look like the Amazon rainforest. The marvellous Andy who came to help us out and is even now painting my banisters (no, this is not metaphor for anything else!) as I write, machete'ed down the weeds, dug the beds, attacked the overgrown hedges and... planted my bulbs. Too ill and exhausted to have any input whatsoever, he asked me where I wanted the bulbs and I told him to put them in wherever. So I am looking at not only a brilliant display of colour but also a surprising one, with hyacinths and daffodils and, in due course, tulips, popping up all over the place.

And walking the hairy hounds every morning I am loving all the wild stuff as well. Last night when I tricked my beloved into going on a long walk as part of his stoutness exercises (thank you, Pooh!) I was exclaiming about violets and celandines, whilst he replied stuffily with "I thought this was just a short evening stroll."
So I am now completely going over to the dark side, becoming Fotherington-Thomas with no boundaries and I can't wait for the bluebells! Yes, children, mum is getting weird again!

And because I have had such fun (turning into Miranda now...) writing this, I am going to share with you one of the finest pieces of advice for all children made to write thank you letters by their well-meaning and well-brought-up parents. Enjoy!

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