It was my Dad’s 70th birthday over the weekend. Not everyone is here at the moment, so to celebrate for now, we had a small party for the weekend. The last time my sister Amelia and I put a birthday surprise together for my Dad was for his 50th- it involved hiding an apple pie in my bedroom for 2 days, French onion soup (though neither of us had ever made French onion soup) and turning off the electricity to trick him into coming downstairs. This affair wasn’t quite so Mission Impossible; we had cake, parcels of Sri Lankan Lamprais, and a walk through Sunbury along the river (the same one we do every Christmas)
I told my sister a few days before that ‘I’m sleeping over at yours’ (me, inviting myself along since 1982) with the intention of getting up early the next day to hit the shops to get food and decorations…except, we didn’t. A late night watching of The Lost Boys (only the best movie, ever) and a leisurely morning eating pancakes and playing with my nieces meant that time ran away and the ONE time my parents happened to be on time…
…but it worked out perfectly fine. Also, we bought the deadliest candle in Tesco. This thing could have signalled to passing ships it was so bright and flamey and to think I nearly put all three on the cake.
Afterwards, we took the dogs out for a walk- my Dad and Amelia in their walking boots and wellies and me…in Robin’s old flip flops. Jumping over cow pats in flip flops, that’s just how I roll.
This is Bella, everybody’s favourite princess. In dog years, she’s in her 90s. Apparently I babysat her when I was at uni but let her run around pooping everywhere and I have zero recollection of this, which means I was most definitely living my best student life at the time.
She also didn’t want to go on our walk and kept running back towards home. She was chased down and in the end, she had to be carried the rest of the way.
The field near my sister’s house is home to a dozen cows over the summer months. They graze in the grass, and generally have a grand old time in their holiday home (and this is why you should wear boots in the field!)
I love houses with names.
The Old Vicarage
The Old Manor Farm
In my neighbourhood, the only signs outside houses are Beware of Dog and No Junk Mail and this is why I love walking through Sunbury.
At the end of the road, lies the river, a quiet hub of barges and boats
And this is why I can never be a fashion blogger.
Hair in a knot, wrinkly trousers and my husband’s old and slightly too big flip flops.
I’m going to do the very British thing of wailing HOW IS THIS SUMMER? It was chilly and definitely chunky jumper weather and felt more like Autumn than the middle of summer. When we got married this time a couple of years ago, it was sweltering
Rant over. Please look at the pretty cow.
A shortcut through the field again, past the herd of cows, and home again.
Years ago, my sister put old reels of film that my Dad made in the 70’s and 80’s onto DVD, so we sat and watched it again. My Dad rocked a mean pair of sideburns and my Mum and sisters’s outfits were so cool.
It was a nice day- I mean, cake always means a nice day- but I love family days.