Sunday, February 21, 2010
Is there a protocol regarding the late summer consumption of figs? If there is and it involves anything to do with moderation, I’m in a spot of bother.
It’s been a hot, late summer, water play in the Gardens, friend catch-up, surely-the-decent-thing-would-be-to-eat-ice-cream-with-those-figs, sort of weekend. Somewhere in there, we squeezed a visit to the Sustainable Living Festival. Lots to be inspired by. ’Course it was all the old, discarded cigarette lighters collected from the banks of the Yarra River that caught my attention most.
Just goes to show you can find the beauty in anything if you colour code enough.
There was all-you-can-carry chip packet craft:
Finger on the Brangelina-pulse recycled magazine bowls:
The general doing-the-kid-thing (usually in three different directions):
Inadvertent face paint napping (literally) by the Too Many Fish To Fry Kid (rest is for the weak):
All up, it was a pretty great weekend.
Up to half an hour ago. Too much out in the sun, too many happenings, too little sleep: everything ending in the tired and fractious. Three grumpy kids in bed. Two grumpy parents – although one has completely forgotten everything that ever happened this weekend (hopefully including the figs he didn’t eat) because he’s busy watching the demise of the Doctor. I wouldn’t say no to a tardis going spare. A half hour time travel here and there could sometimes come in mighty handy...