Monday morning
Monday morning and I have to say I’m not exactly feeling top of the world. Probably all the champagne we were served last night at Christine and Nick’s followed by a rather splendid red wine. Should have refused all those top ups – but you know what its like. Have had a pretty hectic two weeks. Its hard to say no when the setting is comfortable, the canapés are delicious and there are no kids around to worry about.
Didn’t sleep brilliantly last night though. Alcohol plus food repeating itself and discussion on euthanasia spinning through my semi-conscience state. Was pleased when G. woke me up at 6.15 with a cup of tea. I’d been dreaming that it was already 8.20 a.m. and none of the children were getting up for school and that the dog had stolen R’s bed covers and was making a little nest out of them downstairs in the kitchen. Was so relieved that it was, in fact, just past six and not past eight o’clock and that I still had plenty of time to get the whole show on the road and that Belle had not chewed R's bed covers and made a nest of the remains.
Before having supper at Christine and Nick’s we’d driven to Tongerlo to visit Stefanie and Stijn. Our previous tenants who are getting married in May and who’ve bought themselves a wonderful new house in Tongerlo. We went for a sunny walk to the twelfth century Norbentine Abbey. Belle bounced and bounded all over the place and it took us a while to coax her away from the local football club once she’d spotted the ball. We walked past lots of newly built houses, fields with horses (including a massive Shire Horse) and across a stream and a wooded area.
I kept having to repeat to R. over and over again that “no we are not going for a walk. We are going to feed the goats in the abbey.” R. has taken a distinct dislike to the expression: “going for a walk.” Every time he and L. hear it they protest and make a fuss about how they are staying at home.
In the distance over the fields was a new development. Stefanie pointed it out to us. “That development was in the news recently”, she told us. Apparently, in all of the twenty or so new houses, every family is expecting a child this year. Flanders is a confident society.
J. and K. want to move to Tongerlo. They saw other kids out on their bikes and mucking around in the Giro to a loud disco beat. (Giro is a bit like the Flemish equivalent of the boy scouts) Gotta love the Flemish – they have no hang-up or anxiety about suburbia or youth movements. Rather, they embrace it; make the most of it; and exploit it’s many advantages. Safe streets, wide open gardens, light filled houses, no renovation hassles, great youth clubs that play football and basket ball on a sunny Sunday afternoon. I doubted that we would come across a street dubbed Revolutionary Road. Nor did I spot Kate Winslet sulking behind netted curtains; angry and resentful.
Last week I spent every single day in the garden dig, dig, dig, dig, digging. On the first sunny week-end of the year I saw the kids run into the garden, kick a ball about and trample all over my flower beds. Valerie came to play, as did Ivan, and I was constantly knocking at the window telling the kids to “get off of the flowerbeds.” I then had a sudden epiphany. Why not just turn the whole of the garden over to lawn. Tom and Ben have done the same and their lawn looks great. So, last week out went the rosemary, the lavender, the sage, the alliums, the African lilies and much much more. It was terribly sad and I really had to grimace as I dug up healthy plants that were just beginning to show signs of life after a harsh cold winter.
On Saturday G. helped me clear away some of the garden waste. We began work in the pouring rain at twelve and didn’t stop until well past six in the evening. Nothing like comfort food and lots of mugs of hot tea to keep one going under late March conditions. Needless to say though I was exhausted come Saturday night and went to bed at nine already.
Anyway, hang over or not, I must now go into the garden and begin to rake the ground one last time before sowing the grass seeds. Our next real challenge will be to keep the kids off the lawn for the next six to eight weeks before the grass is strong enough. This is going to be hard. Yesterday, at around nine thirty in the evening, as I was choosing another choice piece of meat to dip into the bubbling fondu I suddenly saw Thomas whizz by, followed closely by J. and then K.
"G." I said, "are those our kids whizzing past? Aren't they supposed to be in bed by now? Tomorrow's a school day."
Unbeknown to us the little blighters had escaped the house, clambered over the garden wall and taken up with Thomas. To do so they had to walk all over my newly prepared soil. Inna was busy putting R. and L. to bed - but apparently knew they were with us.
Didn’t sleep brilliantly last night though. Alcohol plus food repeating itself and discussion on euthanasia spinning through my semi-conscience state. Was pleased when G. woke me up at 6.15 with a cup of tea. I’d been dreaming that it was already 8.20 a.m. and none of the children were getting up for school and that the dog had stolen R’s bed covers and was making a little nest out of them downstairs in the kitchen. Was so relieved that it was, in fact, just past six and not past eight o’clock and that I still had plenty of time to get the whole show on the road and that Belle had not chewed R's bed covers and made a nest of the remains.
Before having supper at Christine and Nick’s we’d driven to Tongerlo to visit Stefanie and Stijn. Our previous tenants who are getting married in May and who’ve bought themselves a wonderful new house in Tongerlo. We went for a sunny walk to the twelfth century Norbentine Abbey. Belle bounced and bounded all over the place and it took us a while to coax her away from the local football club once she’d spotted the ball. We walked past lots of newly built houses, fields with horses (including a massive Shire Horse) and across a stream and a wooded area.
I kept having to repeat to R. over and over again that “no we are not going for a walk. We are going to feed the goats in the abbey.” R. has taken a distinct dislike to the expression: “going for a walk.” Every time he and L. hear it they protest and make a fuss about how they are staying at home.
In the distance over the fields was a new development. Stefanie pointed it out to us. “That development was in the news recently”, she told us. Apparently, in all of the twenty or so new houses, every family is expecting a child this year. Flanders is a confident society.
J. and K. want to move to Tongerlo. They saw other kids out on their bikes and mucking around in the Giro to a loud disco beat. (Giro is a bit like the Flemish equivalent of the boy scouts) Gotta love the Flemish – they have no hang-up or anxiety about suburbia or youth movements. Rather, they embrace it; make the most of it; and exploit it’s many advantages. Safe streets, wide open gardens, light filled houses, no renovation hassles, great youth clubs that play football and basket ball on a sunny Sunday afternoon. I doubted that we would come across a street dubbed Revolutionary Road. Nor did I spot Kate Winslet sulking behind netted curtains; angry and resentful.
Last week I spent every single day in the garden dig, dig, dig, dig, digging. On the first sunny week-end of the year I saw the kids run into the garden, kick a ball about and trample all over my flower beds. Valerie came to play, as did Ivan, and I was constantly knocking at the window telling the kids to “get off of the flowerbeds.” I then had a sudden epiphany. Why not just turn the whole of the garden over to lawn. Tom and Ben have done the same and their lawn looks great. So, last week out went the rosemary, the lavender, the sage, the alliums, the African lilies and much much more. It was terribly sad and I really had to grimace as I dug up healthy plants that were just beginning to show signs of life after a harsh cold winter.
On Saturday G. helped me clear away some of the garden waste. We began work in the pouring rain at twelve and didn’t stop until well past six in the evening. Nothing like comfort food and lots of mugs of hot tea to keep one going under late March conditions. Needless to say though I was exhausted come Saturday night and went to bed at nine already.
Anyway, hang over or not, I must now go into the garden and begin to rake the ground one last time before sowing the grass seeds. Our next real challenge will be to keep the kids off the lawn for the next six to eight weeks before the grass is strong enough. This is going to be hard. Yesterday, at around nine thirty in the evening, as I was choosing another choice piece of meat to dip into the bubbling fondu I suddenly saw Thomas whizz by, followed closely by J. and then K.
"G." I said, "are those our kids whizzing past? Aren't they supposed to be in bed by now? Tomorrow's a school day."
Unbeknown to us the little blighters had escaped the house, clambered over the garden wall and taken up with Thomas. To do so they had to walk all over my newly prepared soil. Inna was busy putting R. and L. to bed - but apparently knew they were with us.
posted by Kathleen at 1:20 AM
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