Several fab weekends

Highly amusing – I was prodded last night by a self-confessed avid blog reader that I hadn't updated this for too long – and you were quite right (thanks Fitz!)

So here goes a bumper edition of blogerama blatherings…starting with:

1. Our Hockey girls (and Jules!) boat weekend.

– Not the best of weather for it - check out the ridiculous combo of tantalisingly blue sky above plus waves the size of your head. Most of which threw themselves straight at my actual head - see the only photo where I've just about got my eyes open despite being lashed with salt water, for evidence.

 
But it was a top weekend as ever – the Magus (our boat) always seems to deliver, as when the weather's foul, the drinks get opened earlier and the fun goes up a notch even sooner. Cue one weekend of dancing on the tables in the Folly Inn by Cowes and laughing our socks off at Jules claiming that his 3am copious vomiting into the boat's sink (what was wrong with either of the two loos?) was down to… ah yes of course….. the orange juice he'd had. Citrus fruit being well known for its nausea-inducing capabilities.

 
 Oh and how could I forget the comedy outfit of the weekend? As the skies got greyer, the rain began to spit and it basically started to honk down with wet stuff from above, complemented by the sea whipping up into our faces from the Force 9 (I kid you not, the most I've ever been out in) gale winds. And at this point, only one of us was strangely slow and reluctant to don head to toe waterproofs.

Surely not our RAF goddess, the diminutive powerhouse of Squadron Leader (no less), Sophie 'Bomber Command' Green??? And then it all became clear quite why she was less than keen to dig into that kitbag and pull out her wet gear…. Here it comes - that's if you can still spot her, under all that asking-for-a-pisstake camouflage AND the piece de resistance of the 'green for Sophie Green' matching sunglasses…. What a stunning look, and all paid for, as she kept reminding us, by us – the British taxpayer, swine.

 

And thence onwards, from the high seas of the Solent, to……

ii) A Weekend in Holland with the rellies

Actually, rather sadly my elderly uncle Jan is not doing so well. Which meant we needed to whip Mum across to Holland rather sharpish to see him, her only brother. So we were all delighted that we did manage to get over there, get together and to at least wheel him into the lovely gardens of the old people's home he lives in, and have a nice tea with us and some of the other Clog relatives that Cathy always manages to squirrel out of nowhere, this time Pim & Rita.

Was very sad to see Jan so incredibly frail, and nothing we could do to persuade him to even try a mouthful of food. I guess this is what happens when people either decide its time to go (do you think you can actively decide, or is this how we steel ourselves to the fact the death actually comes to ge you?), or their body decides it for them and appetite is a thing of the past.

So little pleasures are all there is, and I loved taking him though our wedding photos (poor old boy couldn't escape us, now he's pretty much bedbound) and making him smile at some of my crap stories. Anything to bring a little joy – it's a reminder of what life can be in later years, and how even the smallest things of popping in to see someone or sending a postcard, can make a difference. Anyway, this is Jan as most of you will never have met him:

 
A big shame he wasn't well enough for us to fully spring him from his home, to come out for the big event of Lily Rose's third birthday party. Yes, our little Dutch flower girl from our wedding is now officially, three, which shows how well she did at the wedding as she was still two then (you can see how my maths has improved so much of late).

Here she is with our birthday prezzie – the wondrous Trunki. Which I was kind of hoping she wouldn't like as I wanted it, but as ever, small girls are genetically programmed to loving anything pink or purple and Lily loved it.

And so onto a quick side story on our return from Hollandia – introducing the sorry tale of…..

iii) Mojo and The Rat

So – I can't quite remember where I was that night, but I was out. And 'Scotty's out' is a very scary situation for our poor Mr H to find himself in, whenever big bad Mojo decides to show the local Wimbledon rodent population just who is boss, and somehow manages to drag in a deaf/blind/surely had a heart attack as she's too slow to catch much, luckless four legged creature.

Because yes, my big strong husband is terrified of mice. And on this occasion it wasn't just a mouse that came to visit.

And worse – he didn't even spot that anything was amiss until he came to putting his bike shoes on to go our for a cycle ride – and discovered the whacking great dead rat which Mojo had carefully stashed away in one of them.

Cue lots of girly shrieking that I'm so so sorry to have missed, the rat being at least 4 foot long with poisonous sabre-teeth by the time I got home and heard the story, and Mojo being very proud of herself and her kind, nicely repackaged gift.

And it is indeed a gift that keeps on giving, as she can still smell the dead rat juice (mm thats a nice thing to have in your shoes), as evidenced by her resolute stuffing of her little black nose as far down H's shoes as she possibly can, even though Mr Ratty is long gone. Bless her little furrinesss. It's just hard to tell where the cat stops, the shoe begins and the rat smeg remains….  

 

And finally onto our most recent weekend away

iv) James & Dominic on the merry Magus

So – the Barnes boys came down, boarded the Magus and off we set, this time in glorious Britsh sunshine, towards the Needles and thence on to – god I've forgotten what its called – some very nice bay near Old Harry rocks.

And as there wasn't much sailing to be done in the near-becalmed conditions, the fishing challenge duly commenced! Resulting in no less than 50 mackerel being landed between the four of us, plus 2 Billy Sea Bass and a sole Whiting. So no need for the back up option of BBQ meats – it was 'off with their heads' (and fortunately various other bits of their anatomies) and into the pan for a fishfest.

Starting with what I believe is a first for the Magus- mackerel sushi. The boys had brought a full on sushi making kit with them – nori strips, ginger jar, wasabi in a tube, special knives and even a little bamboo mat thing to roll it all up into sushi. And talk about fresh – the mackerel had only been dead about an hour before it was squashed into a seaweed tube with some freshly cooked sushi rice – and with a few hai karate chops, delicious. 

 
Oh and how can I not give a quick visual name check to James and the bigger of the two sea basses we landed that weekend. I'm sure mine tasted better but yes, yours James was indeed the big boy of bass..

 
That's it for now! Thanks for tuning in S x