We have new trees planted on our street. They are cute. They are upright, knobbly, adolescent trees: a species yet unknown. Who will they turn into as they reach adulthood?
Anyway, I will have mentioned the fascination (read: obsession) that Daddy Tea has with the world of wildflowers… Well, his obsession has been ignited and it’s exploded!
In the base of each tree on the street, my husband with help from Big and Little Sis, bombed the soil with wildflower seeds today. He bought special seed-infested matting from some spurious website and, after cutting perfect tree-foot-shaped mini-mats, they dug them into the squares on soil all along the road!
There were quick glances right and left, spurious conservation conversations with passers-by, and definite hiding behind the kids to make it all look perfectly wholesome, rather than plain weird!
But they did it.
And look how pretty they now look:
…or maybe not all that pretty yet.
Maybe I’ll remember to publish an update here in a month or two, with (hopefully) a rainbow-bright picture, bursting forth with wildflowery beauty! Quite a slow-exploding bomb maybe, but if it works, very much still as impact-full!
Asked Big Sis: “What is the best job in the world?”
My answer included various stipulations, and clauses based on how our interpretations of what is best is very personal, etc. After I’d finished with my boring/insightful (delete as you find appropriate) monologue, I threw the question back at her.
“I think it’s being a mummy,” she honestly replied. Ahh, how lovely. My dedication to being such a top-class stay-at-home-mum has shown to be fruitful. “Because,” she continued, “you get to take it easy”.
I’m a big fan of the blog called The Artful Parent, ooh yes. I like to think that I think like her, agreeing so much with the concept of open-ended art (where you set up the materials, perhaps offer some conceptual guidance, wind them up and let them go and create). And so, it was to the Artful Parent that I turned and found the trigger to get dotty with the girls!
Both Big and Little Sis nag me to get the paints out as frequently as possible, but of course, so to maintain some kind of mummy knows best authority, the paints are limited to special painting days (which are actually very unplanned, actually far more frequent than it sounds and usually very messy). When a painting day occurs, there are squeals all round.
Big Sis takes great pride in squidging out the paints and setting up the brushes. Except… No brushes this time. This time, it’s all about the cotton buds.
We had a (very quick, because we were desperate to get started) look online at some of Seurat’s masterpieces and chatted about using dots… But really? We just got dotting.
This pointillism technique worked SO well with the two ages of Big (6) and Little Sis (3). Little Sis started off working with precision…
… And finished with a colourful spot-tacular!
Big Sis, however, took some inspiration from Seurat maybe (?!) as she spent considerable time concentrating on just the one picture of a “sparkling crown”. Worth noting that during the time she had taken on this piece, her little sister had finished roughly 11 pictures. Quality versus quantity debate?
This was fun. The tidying away wasn’t so fun – when cleaning up, why do I always manage to slop watery paint juice over the side of the sink??
If you would like to see the post on The Artful Parent all about this technique, which inspired me, here it is!
Time to cut through the cold with a fire. So we make the most of a visit to Granny and Grandad Tea’s, which being suitably countrified allows for bonfires to be had (unlike back at home in London).
Little Sis gathered sticks in the toy wheelbarrow, and Big Sis used the proper thing. Everything was chucked onto the heap, and set alight. We sat ourselves as close as was safe, sitting on sawn up logs and wood cuttings. We sang campfire songs. We warmed ourselves right through. But boy, did we stink of smoke afterwards. Lovely.
Asks Daddy Tea: “So who can tell me what happened on Good Friday?”
Big Sis: “Jesus dies on the cross: cruuuuuuucified.”
“And what about what happened on Easter Sunday?,” he continued.
Big Sis: “Jesus rose again.”
“Ah, so who can tell me what might have happened on the day in between, Easter Saturday?”
Little Sis: “I know, I know. We got to be bridesmaids!”
Yesterday was an amazing wedding day, when my beautiful little cousin married her beloved. There was sunshine and snow, magicians and cookies. Big Sis and Little Sis did their job as little bridesmaids so well = a very proud Mummy Tea. Happy Easter. X
On the walk to school this morning I had to have a (stern) word with Big Sis. She was not behaving as well as I thought she should.
It’s worth noting that my standards are quite high and my expectations of good behaviour are verging on Victorian sometimes. But nevertheless, I *think* my chastising was justified. ??? I HOPE so.
However I did not emerge the winner. I spoke my bit, and kept my fingers crossed that my stern words would shake everyone back into shipshape fashion.
But whilst my outcries broke the spell of mischief, the victor and wise old women of the moment was really Little Sis:
“You need to use my Bag Of Naughtiness,” she announced to her sister.
This is a concept constructed in her own mind, within which she seems able to compartmentalise her own bad behaviour, and lock it away.
So Big Sis replies (them both completely blanking me now),”but the zip is broken, I can’t keep it shut.”
“Try to pull it really hard then.”
Big Sis grits her teeth and zips up the imaginary bag she has borrowed, and with that begins behaving impeccably. Both sisters are happy. I am happy. I don’t know where this bag concept came from, but I LOVE it.
I want such a bag. I love bags. Looks like my daughters do too.