And Quest is four again. Didn’t stop me from starting to dish our dinner in five plates. Typical.
Watched Shaun the Sheep Farmaggedon tonight; courtesy of Jason’s movies from Swan Street. Banging film – in Lu’s words.
We spent the movie laughing at ourselves in the different character personas. Lu being the naughty but cute alien in the movie, Jack was Shaun (of course), my mum the farmer, Delph the baby sheep in the crowd of other sheep (Ellie you were the knitting sheep).
Me? According to the girls, I was the dog. The dog who is always trying to contain order with disapproving looks on his face. Every time the dog came on, they were like, ‘Look there’s Ma again at school time.’ It’s true, I found Lu’s computer running a Geography class this morning with no Lulu. And Delphine dreaming during Humanities homework.
I suppose there is one thing that shone through this emotional hangover of a Monday. Jack and I co-schooled. He did school with Delphine this morning and I stamped on the washing – until he got a work call and I jumped out of the washing bucket. Then Lulu was flagging on her own so he jumped back in and I went and sat with Lulu. Believe it or not, this is a bit of a Questie first.
I won’t lie – part of my sadness over Ellie going is her not helping Delphine with school. It’s not my fault she was so good at it. Like really super good. The two of them chatting and chortling. Silence while Delphine wrote and Ellie gave her space to think. Not too many corrections either. Delphine had a lot of thinking room under Ellie’s patient touch. I watched and appreciated.
We did Carlisle Bay by the Hilton today for lunch. Sandwiches (we bring our own) and french fries (we buy them from the food van). Have been surfing here almost every single day. I kayak to the beach from Quest and the girls help Jack with the surfboards as he lands the dinghy.
Such a special place, this beach by the Hilton. Want to know the best thing about it – besides the unafraid sea turtles and the sandy break for safe surfing? It’s usually so quiet. Maybe because the Hilton guests have to completely exit the hotel and cross the car park to get to the beach.
Plus, the swimming pools in the Hilton are nice – really nice. So perhaps people prefer to stay by the pools instead of larking under almond trees while turtles poke out of the water like periscopes. Shame man.
We almost always have the beach to ourselves – except for savvy locals and a few Hilton stragglers. You can always spot them. They turn up like they’ve stumbled upon paradise, but their faces are torn. Should we just go back to the infinity pool? Too many choices.
I just hope I don’t serve five breakfasts tomorrow morning. And yep, it’s pancakes. Again.