Monday on a Wednesday

We’re a funny old nation…state…city. Stopping and dropping everything for a horse race…on a Tuesday…

After a very long weekend spent shooting weddings and butchering lamb, we found our way to the sea, to our village down by the salty air and crisp breeze of Anderson Inlet. A first bike ride with Daddy (and Mummy, and uncle and aunty and cousins!) as well as some tottering first steps. Yes – steps! Eleanor will now, with much encouragement, take some tottering steps between two sets of willing and familiar arms. So proud of our blossom! But…walking it is not, slow and steady wins the race, as always.

Daddy worked on the funny Monday-before-a-public-holiday, whilst Mummy and Eleanor admired vintage goodies, Mumma’s cottage garden and Jenni’s stuffed eggplants. As always, in our home away from home down by the sea, we were suitably well fed. Good food, good wine, stellar company in our village of cousins and aunties and uncles and grandparents. How lucky are we?

A four day long weekend, which still seemed fleeting somehow. Followed by a Wednesday which feels like a Monday…and a written off car, but a safe (and very annoyed with himself) husband. Sigh… Counting our blessings indeed. Asparagus and pencils and scabiosa and bike rides and wrecked cars and all.