Where’s the Spitfire?


The only possible way for today to get more British would be if a Spitfire landed in our back garden.

Yes. That British!

Stu with the pumpkin
The Pumpking of Bexley!

We’ve been out tidying the garden, preparing for winter and chatting with our neighbours –  today’s harvesting of the pumpkin in our front garden was the source of much local comment – if it was front page in the Bexley Shopper next week I wouldn’t be the least surprised.  We also cleaned out the gerbil cage on the front porch; the girls went scootering around the streets in a demented high-pitched display team and I mowed the lawn…

And while all this was going on the Lovely Melanie was preparing a sumptuous Sunday lunch of pork with crackling with roast potatoes in cider gravy, followed by a homemade bakewell tart.

See what I mean about the addition of a Spitfire? 😉

The girls weren’t overly keen on the cider gravy – it was something of a break with traditional gravy, I admit.  But what a delicious feast we had, and as a result have decided to do a proper family Sunday lunch more often.

The cherry on the cake this afternoon was Amber and I discovering that a bullrush picked by Millie and I last month was, erm…well, going all fluffy would be the layman’s way of describing it.

For a few brief minutes we turned the back garden into some kind of crazy fairy land, drenched in clouds of fluffy bullrush seeds.

Bullrushes, it turns out, are absolutely jam-packed with dandelion-like seeds.  By making a small break in their tightly-packaged ranks you can then turn them into a fantastic magic wand that dispenses clouds of tiny seeds that will cover everything nearby, turning your small suburban back garden into a fluffy cotton-covered wonderland. 😀

Amby thought it was brilliant; I thought it was brilliant – it was brilliant!

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